#also yeah!! at first i thought the mc had DID loll

[an-theduckin]

Ok SO finally finished reading adult child/dead child, sorry took a little while lol (also probably shouldn't have read it just after waking up cause of brain fog and all but eh)

AGAHAHAHJAA I LOVEDDD IT!!!!!!

I know it's supposed to be about schizophrenia (at least I think you mentioned it?) but Benji remind me a lot of a persecutor in a DID system?

Anyway. HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO MAKE THESE LINES GO SO HARD?? HI??????

"you feel like a child because you need love like a child" "how I loved my parents, how my parents hated me" "they have the power but they won't help" "professional pretender, pretended to be a father" I NEED TO BASH MY HEAD AGAINST A WALL OMG/VERY VERY POS

Like I LOVE how it's like. "Adults are better than kids and kids are worthless and dumb" ?? Sorry I'm shit at explaining but you see what I mean

Just the mental health side is so well written and it feels so real ? Like there's always a lot of stuff happening and it's very interesting I dunno

Just. dudee I love this so fucking much I cannot be more serious you're so fucking talented how do you do it dhkshskakqbNlqa

Idk if it was intentional but I like how things are like repeated.? Like mentioning something a lot of times in a single paragraph idk it as a Vibe to it I like it

im about to go insane over this Scales on Fur style brb I need to make art about this

HEHEHE IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! I didn't write the script tho, this is the scripted performance (they give us scripts of 4 cool plays, we choose which one we wanna do, and learn our lines n perform it) but yeah!! I LOVE the writing style too!! The repetition n stuff is really cool, and omg you rlly chose my fave parts (to perform AND to read) to screenshot n show! That father part reminded me of J lmao. I seriously need to make fanart for it too it's so sick x3

[proyana]

STARMYU LAST

ok wow just wow I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT SO MUCH ITS SO LIGHT AND NICE AND COOL

i have a lot to say since i finished it in one go and didn't really do the same thing as i did with high card but anyways here it goes

firstly during the first season there's not much to cover since its your typical plotline where the mc's struggle and find a way in the most inspiring way possible much like any pther idol anime lol

second, I was so confused when they started mentioning acting because I had fully thought that it was an idol anime which it wasn't it's a musical anime like a legit musical anime that is about theatre.

Now onto the plot, third, the second season plot was beautiful, it was pure and really nice. I love how the story of shadow and lights parallels the actual story of the characters in the sense that they all had their role to play. And i can say that it did good in portraying the shadow and lights plot since the whole season, every problem, every argument is caused by shadow and lights and not in the technical sense, its more on the scenes that happen in shadow and lights are similar to what happen to the actual plot, it also works like the plot of shadow and lights is what needs to happen for the characters and through the show they would be able to achieve what they need to achieve, its like- really connected to the plot. "You are the most important person to me" THIS LINE DROVE ME NUTS, BECAUSE IT WORKS SO WELL WITH OTORI AND HIRAAGI AS WELL AS WITH YUTA. and shy yuta was very beautiful, adorable and ofc the main reason i loved season 2 was Ageha who developed in the best way possible.

Season 3, now this was the big change, since in the first 2 seasons we have the Kao Council being Otori, Hiiragi, Sazanami, Akatsuki and Yuzuriha as well as the former Kao Council. The new Kao Council was a really great group of people, and honestly i loved all of them, each of them had their own character yk? and as much as the other characters are good and nice i loved the writing for Ryo Fuyusawa, I mean first and foremost this is a bias commentary bcs of Saito Soma. But I loved how his main plot point was jealousy then thinking that he was unappreciated, which uh oh, was the complete opposite, I loved it as much as it was typical. And of course I loved the resolve of the second years in performing together and the end OH GOSH THE END WAS SO BEAUTIFUL I MEAN HOW CAN U LISTEN TO THAT AND NOT LOVE IT OH DEAR

it baffles me tho that Ryo committed crimes so yeah theres that loll bye and a last analogy is like

Tatsumi is the star of stars but based on what happened in the 3rd season we can see that his star is Yuta

so Yuta is the star of the star of stars

[offtopicoverload]

Get Lucky

so i totally forgot about this request from @renluthor for like. two months, terribly sorry, but i finally finished it lmao. bit different than what we had discussed, but i had a lot of fun with it and think it turned out decent enough, hope you enjoy it also idk how to tag on ao3, i hope this works fine

M Rating (still suck at rating, there's drinking and kissing so)

Zoey x MC (Bea)

~1700 words (still pretty short since i cant seem to get my word count up rn but im also not that fussed)

Read on Ao3

-

Bea Hughes stands in the middle of Belvoire’s quad on her first day at the school, staring down a snarling beast, some bitch named Poppy that’s really starting to get on her nerves. “You know what, Poppy?” she snarks, “I’m really going to enjoy tearing you down. Something tells me nobody likes you half as much as you like yourself.” She pauses, glancing around before her gaze lands on some frat bro, “Michael, how often does Poppy call you an idiot?”

He frowns, face downcast, “Every day. My therapist says it isn’t good to surround myself with people who bring me down, but my parents are friends with Poppy’s and -”

“Oh my god, nobody asked to be invited to your pity party, Michael!” Poppy shouts, effectively cutting him off with a stamp of her foot.

Bea’s scowl grows, “You know what nobody asked to be invited to? Poppy’s Daily Bitch-Fest. Death by migraine would be more pleasant.”

“Oh, you haven’t even seen Poppy’s Daily Bitch-Fest,” her eyes narrow at Bea dangerously, “But if you’d like a demonstration, by all means, be my guest of -”

“Hey Bea! Look at the time, we gotta go!” Someone takes hold of Bea’s wrist, tugging her along and away from the crowd, from Michael, and from Poppy and her glare. She’s pulled into a sprint across the lawn, running wildly until they’re inside a dorm and standing before some door.

“Wish the circumstances were different, but welcome to the Winfrey dorm complex, aka your new home!” The girl lets Bea’s wrist drop back to her side, gesturing widely with one hand as she fumbles to unlock the door with the other.

She finally succeeds, throwing the door open and ushering Bea inside, the door slamming shut behind them. Bea’s eyes immediately rove over the expensive decor and nice furniture of the huge dorm she’s somehow stumbled upon.

The girl collapses on a couch, kicking her feet up as she looks over to Bea, “So, you got out of that one alive. Barely,” she adds under her breath. “How are you feeling?”

Bea follows suit, slumping down on the opposite side, toying with the hem of her shirt distractedly. “Honestly, you’re gorgeous,” she shrugs, watching the fabric slide between her fingertips. She freezes, slowly glancing to Zoey, “...is what I was thinking, but did I just say it out loud?”

A laugh bursts from Zoey, her head falling back, “You did, and you’re absolutely, positively right. Not to mention easy on the eyes yourself,” she grins, winking at Bea, before sticking her hand out. “I’m Zoey Wade, your roomie,” she shakes Bea’s hand when their palms meet, “This right here is our dorm. Your room’s on the left, mine’s on the right.”

“Okay,” Bea responds abruptly, sinking into the cushions and crossing her arms beneath her chest. “Okay,” she repeats.

Zoey glances over to her, “Are you okay?”

Bea’s eyes flicker to her dark ones, “Yes. Yes, because I got lucky on the roommate front,” she smiles, albeit somewhat forced.

“That you did,” Zoey smiles right back. “In fact, I know the perfect place to get you off campus until the hype dies down.” she jumps to her feet, crossing to the front door before Bea can even react.

She scrambles to her feet, nearly tripping on the corner of the coffee table, “Wait!” Zoey spins as she swings the door open, winking before disappearing down the corner, Bea nearly sprinting to catch up.

---

An hour later, Bea and Zoey are sitting in a dim corner of a Soho speakeasy, soft music and conversation buzzing in the background. Half-drunk Manhattans sit before them, their own voices adding to the soft din of chatter flowing in the space.

“How’d you find this place?” Bea inquires curiously, her eyes scanning the building and its patrons. It’s cozy and warm, the inviting atmosphere a sharp contrast to Belvoire’s intimidating one.

“Connections,” Zoey’s shoulders rise in a nonchalant shrug, unbothered as she scrolls her phone.

“Whose?”

Zoey looks up from her phone, gaze meeting Bea’s as she smirks, “Can’t spill all my secrets on the first day, babe.”

“Why not?” Bea challenges, one eyebrow quirked.

Zoey’s phone is set face down on the table as she looks at Bea mysteriously, smiling secretively, “As sweet as you are, I always need a few cards up my sleeve.”

“How many you got?”

“I’ll never tell,” she winks, in what Bea is quickly learning to be her default.

“I thought the whole point of coming here was to learn more about each other, roomie,” Bea counters pointedly.

Zoey shakes her head, leaning back against the booth, “The point of coming here is avoiding the campus harpy that goes by the name of Poppy.”

“So you don’t want to get to know me? Or let me get to know you?”

“Maybe if you’re lucky I’ll tell you something.”

Bea just her bottom lip out in a pout, her eyes wide and innocent as she blinks up at Zoey. She only smiles coyly in return, drinking her cocktail as Bea deflates, sighing and slumping backwards.

“You are so lucky you’re cute,” Zoey hums from the back of her throat.

Bea grins before schooling her expression into something flirtatious, “I’m hoping I’ll get luckier.”

Zoey laughs at that, just as loud and unrestrained as back in their dorm, “Nice try. At least buy me a drink first.”

“I’ll buy you the whole bar, how about that?”

“I’ll take another Manhattan for now,” Zoey laughs, sinking back into the booth as Bea jumps up, weaving through the speakeasy’s crowd to get back to the bar.

She returns a few minutes later, wiggling the drinks in her hands enticingly with a wide grin on her lips. She slides back into her seat, sipping her own bright coloured cocktail as she looks to Zoey.

“So what made you want to come to Belvoire? Long way from home, right?” Zoey plays with her drink, scraping a cherry off a toothpick with her front teeth.

Bea shrugs, “It’s a good school, and I thought it’d be fun to try something new… But now I’m mixed up in petty drama,” a sigh shifts her shoulders, Zoey stilling her absentminded fidgeting.

“Petty drama, maybe, but you’re making a name for yourself,” she nudges Bea with her elbow. “That’s more than a lot of people can say.”

“So you don’t think I’m totally screwed?”

“Hmm,” one carefully manicured nail taps Zoey’s chin. “I give it ten to one odds,” she finally decides, smiling sweetly across the table.

Bea frowns, a dent forming between her brows as the girl across from her’s smile grows in amusement, “Those aren’t good odds.”

“But there’s still a chance. Look, I know I don’t know you very well, but you seem like the type to pull it off.”

“Seems like you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“And what if I was?”

“I guess I’d wonder if there was a reason for it.”

“Can’t a cute girl be reason enough?”

Bea lets her gaze rake over Zoey suggestively, “I suppose so.”

“See? You’re smart, you’ll be fine,” she encourages. “Probably.”

“Ugh,” with a groan, Bea’s head falls forward, forehead crashing against the table.

“Nope, nope, nope,” Zoey chastises above her, “No moping.”

Bea turns, her cheek pressing into the wood, “What else am I supposed to do?”

“You’re going to dance,” Zoey announces, standing with her palms flat on the tabletop. She cocks her head at Bea expectantly, sauntering out to the dancefloor when Bea takes the hint, popping up and chasing behind her.

The dance floor's more crowded than anywhere else, couples and friend groups moving in unison to the beat thundering through the air. Zoey whirls around, dancing to the peppy song currently playing until Bea’s joined her, swinging her hips and throwing her arms about carelessly.

The song’s change, the crowd moves as one, and the pair spin and jump and whirl, Zoey taking Bea’s hands and twirling her until she’s laughing and dizzy. Time ticks past until they’re both breathless and sweaty, leaning against one another for support.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” Zoey chuckles, her breath brushing Bea’s cheek, goosebumps breaking across her skin.

A grin breaks Bea’s lips too, relaxed and somewhat tired, “Right back atcha.”

Zoey throws her arm over Bea’s shoulders, fingers knitting behind her neck as she looks down at the shorter girl, her messy hair and gleaming eyes, her smudged lipstick and shining teeth. One hand retracts, the pad of her thumb swiping lightly beneath Bea’s lips, cleaning up the mess on her skin.

Bea’s breath hitches, her eyes widening in the dim lighting of the speakeasy, glued to Zoey’s dark ones as they shift over parted lips. “Hey, Bea?” she whispers, thumb still ghosting over Bea’s skin.

“Yeah?” she whispers back, the exhale skimming Zoey’s skin now.

“Are you still trying to get lucky?”

“God yes,” she groans.

Zoey bends down, letting her lips softly graze Bea’s, just barely making contact. Smudged lips chase hers, Zoey smiling before Bea’s palms are on her cheeks, tugging her downwards, her own thumbs brushing along high cheekbones.

Zoey’s hands find her hips, pulling her closer until they’re bodies fit together, only heat between them under the lights. Zoey nips at Bea’s bottom lip, the shorter girl gasping against her lips, Zoey’s tongue slipping past them.

Time ticks past, the mass of people surrounding them lost in a haze, heat the only thing discernible. The break apart after a short moment, unconsciously swaying to the music together, getting caught up in the rhythm, sucked into the thudding bass.

“We should probably head back to campus,” Zoey murmurs after another song fades out.

Bea’s head lolls to the taller girl’s shoulder, a groan spilling from her throat, “Mm, do we have to?”

A familiar chuckle explodes from Zoey’s chest, “Yeah, maybe you’ll find a four-leaf clover along the way. Get even luckier.”

Bea pulls back, her eyes eager as they meet Zoey’s and the remaining laughter in them. “Okay, let’s go!” she grabs Zoey’s hand on her hip, tugging her through the crowd and out the door, pulling her along this time. Her laughter rings behind Bea as she barrels down the street, New York’s lights illuminating her way.

[utterlyinevitable]

Hurricane (Part 4)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Word Count: 2.1k Warning: Small bit of cussing Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.  

A/N: This series was inspired by an anon prompt request for “protection”. I hope I did it justice! This is a multi part story.  ALSO I love Gatsby and Fitzgerald and so self-indulgent in this chapter 🤣

________________________________________

Once Becca and Ethan brought order back to Naveen’s kitchen, she bounded back into the dining room with a bottle of pinot noir in each hand for them all to share much to everyone’s elation. Ethan hung back during the first bottle, opting to gather blankets and towels for the guests. 

The group of gossips played card games and continued letting the conversation flow as freely as Naveen’s hand. Running out of hospitable things to keep him occupied, Ethan poured himself a generous glass and observed the people around him. With much convincing from the group he eventually gave in to the pressure and joined the game of ‘Bullshit’. When that got boring they moved rooms in the name of tranquil comfort. 

They all sat in the living room watching Baz Luhrmann’s The Great Gatsby as the storm raged on outside. Naveen was quick to make sure everyone had copious amounts of wine and cheese before retiring to bed. Without the scrutiny of his father figure Ethan felt he could be a little more carefree. 

Under the cover of darkness Ethan let himself drape his arm behind Becca against the back of the love-seat, making sure to keep his touch a distance away, the soft cushions dipped under the weight of his muscle. She felt the warmth of his presence along the base of her neck. The short invisible hairs stood up at the electricity emitting off him, igniting her senses in the best possible way. Becca smiled to herself, moving a bit closer to him so their sides were completely touching. She leaned into him just enough that the fabric of their clothes were pressed flat against the other.  

Her eyes darted around the dark cabin. Elijah had moved from his wheelchair and to the edge of the three-seater sofa. Sienna sat next to him in the middle and was now lounging out over Naveen’s deserted seat with a throw pillow cuddled deep in her small embrace. 

The coast was clear. Everyone was too engrossed in the film to pay any mind to the diagnosticians on their left. 

Boldly, Becca rested her head gingerly on the curve of Ethan’s shoulder. Her friends were none the wiser. 

Pushing their luck a bit further Ethan slid his arm closer to her shoulder blades. She reciprocated their game by placing a hand carefully on his muscular thigh. 

Ethan’s enchanting blue eyes did their own quick survey of the scene to make sure Sienna and Elijah were still oblivious. When he was certain her friends were too caught up on the imagery, Ethan cupped his free hand over hers. The corner of Becca’s lips noticeably perked as she laced their fingers together. 

“I love this story,” she whispered into his ear. 

“Why? It’s a tragedy. There is not one likable character in the whole plot,” he whispered back.  

“That’s what makes it so compelling. They’re flawed and real.” 

Before Ethan could rebuke, her favorite line was about to be said. 

“Gatsby? What Gatsby?” she mimicked looking over to Ethan. 

Her eyes held the same adoration reflecting from Daisy Buchanan’s character. It was hopeless and all-consuming, fiery and full of… something Ethan couldn’t place. All he knew was when that line fell delicately off her tongue he couldn’t help but parallel the feeling of him and Becca being the only two people in the universe. Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her. That one smile full of eternal reassurance and pride, making it as if his whole world revolved around her in that soulful moment. A glimpse into who Ethan was and not who Dr. Ramsey needed to be.  

Becca was mere inches away. One movement and it would all be over. Her eyes flickered down to his lips and back to the large television screen, ever so enchanted by the modern classic playing out before them. Ethan was thankful for her lack of focus. He let out the breath he was holding in he held onto her hand just a bit tighter. 

As the evening passed on Ethan let himself fall a bit more into comfort. 

For a brief moment he thought maybe, just maybe, everything could be this simple. They could be together and the people in their lives could all know, and no one would care. No careers could be in turmoil by the mere mention of their romantic relationship. 

No politics. Just love. 

Unfortunately, that’s not how the world works. 

Ethan was far too well-versed in cynicism to let himself fall any further than this moment. Holding hands in the darkness was all they could ever have with others around. He let the moment last, trusting her word that her friends wouldn’t destroy their ephemeral happiness. 

No, that was destined for them. 

Once the credit scene began to roll Sienna was the first to disturb the peace. 

“Come on I think it’s time for bed,” she sat up and tapped a dozing Elijah on the shoulder. 

Sienna dared to glance over at the love-seat - doing a double take to make sure it was really, truly happening before her very eyes. There in the warm glow cascading off the television was Becca curled up against Dr. Ramsey. Ethan was cradling her against him with his right arm securely at her waist as his left held up a book. He began reading the closest literature he could find towards the end of the film when he was sure Becca was asleep and wouldn’t castrate him. Neither diagnostician made an attempt to move. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Elijah agreed, lazily moving back into his chair while Sienna made sure to put the pillow back where she found it. “Night Becca, Dr. Ramsey,” he called as Sienna wheeled him to their room for the next few days.  

“Goodnight, Dr. Greene. Trinh,” Ethan acknowledged without breaking focus on his book. 

Once the friends were safely in their room with a click of the door Ethan began to migrate, casting the book aside and reaching for the remote on Becca’s armrest to shut the television off. 

“No,” she whined as his small motions rock her gently to disturb her slumber. 

With a smirk Ethan scoffed, “You’re basically asleep.”

Becca grumbled back as she threw her arms over her eyes, “I don’t care.” 

Ethan took the challenge and swiftly rose to his feet. Becca’s cheek immediately met the crater in the cushion as she flopped down without her supporter. 

“Hey!” her objection was partially muffled by the old paisley printed cushion.  

Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle at his resident. Her legs were still awkwardly folded under herself and he’d imagine they’d at least be tingly with pins and needles by now, she still had her jeans on and her top exposed the pale skin of her midriff, and her brown locks were wildly strewn about. With a bemused shake of his head he brought the remainder of the dishes into the kitchen. 

When he came back Becca hadn’t moved an inch, her body still lolled to the side where he was previously sat. 

In four long strides Ethan was back in front of her. Becca heard his shallow footsteps yet was too comfortable to acknowledge his presence. Suddenly the couch flew out of under her and Becca was in free fall. Before she could open her eyes taut muscle and bone made contact with her rib-cage. 

Ethan had slung her over his shoulder. 

“Ethan!” she hissed. Normally Becca would appreciate the delicious view of this new position however the generous amount of wine mixed with the blood rushing to her head was not working in her favor.  

“Shush, you’ll wake everyone up.” Becca’s bottom jiggled from Ethan’s playful smack. 

She argued back, “You woke me up!”  

“It was that or have a stiff neck tomorrow,” Ethan began to rationalize as he took each step carefully so as to not to lose his balance. “And I’m not dealing with your complaints.”

Naveen’s master bedroom was large with glorious vaulted ceilings and exposed wooden beams. It was much too big for one person. Keeping with the cabin theme, the bed was wooden with four tall posts, the outer wall was lined with windows looking out over the river, and the adjoining bathroom led right into a modest yet bare walk-in closet. 

Ethan placed Becca down on the soft springform mattress conscientiously. She reveled in the waft of cinnamon and cedar of the quilt and deep red cotton sheets. Becca appreciated how Naveen also had an affinity for pillows - four medium firm and two down were waiting patiently for her noggin. Becca was too enticed by sleep to rummage for pajamas in her bag. Instead she began to unbutton her jeans haphazardly from her horizontal position. 

Ethan watched as she fumbled continuously, not quite grasping the button enough to pop it through the hole. After the fourth try he swatted her hands away, taking the reins. Ethan expertly flicked the button, dragged the zipper down and freed Becca’s legs from the thick day-ridden material. She sighed as the cool air met her clean-shaven skin. Her toes then hooked and flicked off her socks while she sat up and pulled her shirt off.  

 Sitting cross-legged on top of the duvet in just her nude bra and purple lace panties she asked, “Staying or going?” 

Her jeans were now folded on top of the wardrobe where Ethan stood with a cocked eyebrow, “What do you think?”

BOOM! 

A close clack of thunder rattled the wood causing them both to jump. 

CLACK! 

TSS

“Fuck!” she screamed in exasperation as quietly as she could. “Do you think a tree fell?” 

“Rookie, are you scared?” 

“No. I’ve been through loads of hurricanes,” she asserted, moving up the bed to crawl safely under the covers. “There's just a lot of wood around here. One wrong bolt and we’re all up in flames.” 

Ethan perched himself at the edge of the bed next to her nearly nude form. “I highly doubt that will happen.” 

“But it could happen.” 

“Theoretically.”

The covers sat around Becca’s waist. Her supple curves of her exposed breasts called to him. Ethan began to reach for her but the rational doctor did all he could to stop himself from caressing the addictive skin. Instead his hand rested on her inner thigh, just the thin duvet separating their warmth. Her hair was a frizzy halo around her rounded face and her lips stained deep indigo from all the red wine. And yet she was still - always, so beautiful. 

She watched as his eyes trail over her and his chest rose and fell a tad quicker.   

“You should stay. I know you want to.” 

“You know I can’t.” 

“You know they already think we’re dating anyway.” 

Ethan was taken aback at the brazen accusation but not enough to remove his hold on her, “We are doing what?” Instinctively his calloused fingers tightened their grip slightly. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” she all but rolled her eyes at his idiocy. After a beat, her brown eyes fixated on his expert hand, she added, “Ethan… are you single?” 

Her small voice was full of shaken vulnerability. She yanked the covers up higher, releasing his hold on her, and curled herself further into them, shielding herself from his answer. Or lack thereof, there were too many seconds hanging in the space between them.  

He reached out to tuck a few strands behind her ear. The wait was killing her. 

“No… I’m not.” 

Those words. Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? She couldn’t recall anything other than him at this moment moving in closer to her. Their noses brushed every so slightly, his affirming and hopeful words lingering warm against her flushed cheeks. 

“Stay,” she breathed. 

The way she was imploring him could crumble the Great Wall of China. Every ounce of Ethan’s resolve came crumbling down as he finally admitted his feelings to the universe. He thought she knew by now how he was irrevocably hers without words needing to be shared. Dr. Ethan Ramsey would continue living a solitary life until he could freely be able to love Dr. Rebecca Lao and without fear of completely destroying her bright future. 

Ethan wanted so badly to dive into the covers with her and never come back up - her sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. But the little voice in the back of his head told him not to cut the line just yet.  

“Only until you fall asleep,” he agreed. “Wouldn’t want Naveen thinking we were being indecent in his bed. He’d never let me hear the end of it.” 

________________________________________

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[kirishwima]

Fluffy headcanons with the RFA sleeping over/ having their S/O sleep over for the first time?? xx

awee yes i love this!! 

YOOSUNG:

* He’s a m e s s before MC comes over

* Like oh my god he’s cleaning every corner of his apartment and tripping over his feet, he burns some incense to make the place smell nice, takes like three showers because-MC’s sleeping over! Here! in his apartment?!!

* An absoloute trembling mess-he’s the one that invited them to come over to watch movies and stay the night, but during the movie he’s shaking so much he can’t even wrap his hand around their shoulders all suave like he planned to

* MC will have to take the initiative to make this poor bean more comfortable-just grab his hand and tug it on their lap or something-not as an invitation to sex or anything, just in a comforting gesture to say it’s okay, he can be himself around them

* It did cross his mind that a sleepover with MC could lead to something more than just sleeping but he’s a gentleman through and through-and also so incredinly embarassed and shy he tells MC they can use his bed and he’ll bring out the air-bed; if MC insists they can share his bed he’ll never be able to sleep through the night lol

* When he does fall asleep, that’s when he truly becomes shameless-this boy is a warmth hoarder, so he’ll absoloutely end up sprawled on the bed, one leg over MC’s thighs, his hand over their head-he’s such a heavy sleeper he won’t wake up even if MC tries to shake him awake lol

* In the morning he’ll be a blushing mess, but also secretly so happy-he gets to wake up to MC! If he wakes first he’ll take a long moment to just look at MC’s sleeping form, before giggling to himself and giving them a kiss on the top of their nose, trying his best to not rouse them

* Will absoloutely make them their favorite kind of breakfast in the morning uwu

ZEN:

* He’s invited MC for dinner and wine at his place (yes, not beer-he can be a classy guy when he wants to be), and suggested they stay the night instead of leaving-he’d hate for them to be travelling alone that late in the night!

* He only realises just what he put himself into after making the offer-MC would be staying over. At his place. For. The. FIRST TIME.

* Immediatly starts cleaning and trying to make the place look less like a man-cave-hiding his accumulated dirty laundry into the washing machine, running to the nearest grocery store to get something that isn’t beer to stock up in the fridge, cleaning dirty dishes e.t.c

* When he feels the place looks semi-presentable, he then opens one single can of beer to drink and calm his nerves before he starts cooking-at all costs, he needs to hide the Beast tonight. He’s a gentleman god damn it, and he’s not about to lost control simply because the person he’s in love with is spending the night over!

* True to his word he really is a gentleman throughout the night-he makes them a candlelit dinner, puts some soft indie music to play on the radio as he chats with MC over a glass of wine-it’s only when he notices how late it’s gotten that he starts to disintegrate into a bubbly blushing mess.

* When he asks MC if they’d like to go to bed, he can barely pull the words out of his mouth, his eyes are swirling, and-is he sweating? He feels so warm and cold at the same time, and he’ll only calm down when MC grips his hand in theirs, telling him it’s alright if he’d rather they go home instead.

* Zen snaps himself back to reality. No, MC’s here, and he’ll cherish every moment with them, beast be damned!

* He’ll of course suggest they take the bed and he can sleep on the couch, but a single pouty look from MC will make him get ready for bed and cuddle under the sheets with MC.

* The Beast, surprisingly, doesn’t make an appearance; he’s simply so content in laying there, holding MC close to him, that he doesn’t even consider anything more than that. He’s just happy to kiss the nape of their neck before he falls asleep holding onto them.

* Good luck trying to turn around while sleeping MC-this dude’s a solid rock and if he’s holding on to them when falling asleep, then hoo boy, you’ll never be able to get out of his grip

* In the morning he’ll feel the most well-rested he’s ever been-so much so in fact, that he’s up by 5 a.m and making home-made lemonade and breakfast to bring in bed for MC

* Just a big lovey-dovey goof really, and he’s definitely planning on spending way more nights with MC from now on!

JAEHEE:

* Their first night together was actually incidental-she invited MC over to watch one of Zen’s latest musicals, only MC fell asleep whilst watching, their head lolling onto Jaehee’s shoulder.

* She smiles at the sight-loves how comfortable MC feels around her, and how she too, in return, feels just as comfortable around MC, like she can finally be herself around someone.

* Begrudgingly, she gently shakes MC awake, so she can tell them to go rest on her bed-she laughs at their muffled response of ‘but you’re more comfy than a bed’ and slowly drags them by the hand, lets them flop down on the bed and tucks them in with a kiss on the cheek.

* She goes to the closet to grab a blanket so she can sleep on the couch when MC asks her what she’s doing-when she says she’ll go sleep on the couch, there’s little chance MC would let her-instead they insist she comes rest with them, how they’ll be unable to sleep without Jaehee besides them.

* Well, that goes twofold-Jaehee too has only let herself doze off before in MC’s presence, always hyper-alert and focused around anyone else. She wonders if it’ll be the same if they sleep on the same bed, if she’ll be able to go to bed or if she’ll end up awake and anxious besides MC.

* With a sigh she decides to give it a go, slowly getting under the covers and keeping a respectful distance between her and MC-only it doesn’t last long, as MC shuffles closer to Jaehee, enough that their noses could touch if one of them moved.

* Jaehee stays awake for a while, even after MC falls asleep, unable to hide the smile spreading on her face-not once had she ever thought she’d feel this much for another person, and yet here she is, the one she loves sleeping within arms’ reach from her.

* She hesitantly moves her hand towards MC, tugging some loose strands of hair behind MC’s ear as she shuffles close to give them a soft kiss on the forehead, whispering goodnight before cuddling close and letting herself doze off.

* It’s true-she really does sleep better when she has MC beside her.

* In the morning, she actually overslept-a profound thing for Jaehee, but only goes to show how comfortable she is. She’ll wake up to the smell of breweing coffee and be thankful MC ever ended up in her life, hiding her giggly smile into her pillow

JUMIN:

* Well...MC has actually stayed at his place even when they barely knew each other, so there’s little to say here lol

* However! It’s a completely different story the first time they share a bed. 

* Jumin bid MC goodnight with a kiss on the forehead, already walking towards the door before MC stopped him, sitting upright in the bed with a pout. Jumin’s confused, but when MC asks him to sleep over beside them, he freezes.

* Yeah, he’d love nothing more than to have MC in his arms, to let them rest their head on his chest as they sleep, but is it okay? Would MC be comfortable to do so besides him?

* It’s not even about controlling himself-he’s not once thought of sexual desires when he left MC’s room at night, he simply wanted them to have a good night’s rest, and worried he’d ruin it if he slept besides them. But now that they ask him so sweetly, that adorable pout on their face, how could he possibly say no?

* He slowly comes to sit beside them on the bed, smiling as he sees them settle back into the sheets, and he tugs off his slippers and hides under the covers with them, at a distance at first, awkward and unsure of what to do.

* MC would have to guide him as to what to do-if it’s okay for him to wrap his arms around their waist, if it’s okay to let his head hide in the crook of their neck-he’ll be alert long after MC falls asleep, both because he loves to feel their chest rise and fall, knowing they’re safe besides him, but also because he’s never slept with someone in such an innocent way before-he never thought he would, really.

* It takes him a while to fall asleep, but when he does, it’s the sweetest sleep he’s ever gotten, uninterrupted, warm in MC’s arms.

* He’ll wake refreshed and well-rested, happy to turn his head and see MC’s sleeping form besides him, will even find their bed head adorable when they get up.

* From then on he simply refuses to sleep on his own-MC brought this upon themelsves after all, and now that this man knows what a good 7 hours of sleep can do to him, it’s over for y’all

SEVEN:

* He’s stayed at Rika’s apartment, but he literally hid in the corner the whole time and i doubt he ever slept so does it even count?

* The answer’s no. What does, instead, count, is the first night they share on the run, while looking for Saeran.

* He stopped driving after MC insisted they both need some rest, and whilst he was ready to book two rooms at a motel out of town, the receptionist informed him there’s only one room, and-surprise surprise, it comes with only one bed.

* So he books that, and tells MC they can have the bed-he’s used to sleeping pretty much anywhere, even the floor will do. Well, lo and behold, MC of course refuses to let him sleep anywhere else that isn’t besides them, knowing that a) He’d be uncomfortable and b) That he’d barely get any sleep anyway

* Instead they tug him onto the bed, pinning him down under them with a frown. Seven let himself be taken down, his eyes wide and his face redder than his hair as he looked to MC above him, noticing how they were essentially holding him in place with their thighs.

* “You. Are. Getting. 8. Hours of sleep or so help me Seven I’ll woop you into unconsciousness myself” MC says, and well, mark Seven down as both scared and horny lmao

* All jokes aside though, he really is tired-he doesn’t make much of a fuss when MC tucks him in under the covers and snuggles close to him, resting their head under his chin-he unconsciously wraps one hand around MC’s waist, bringing the other under his head.

* He falls asleep quicker than he ever did-one moment he was rubbing soothing circles onto MC’s hip, the next he’s dead asleep, waking up only when MC shakes him awake.

* He’s shocked at first, blinks fast as he tries to take in his surroundings-he nearly threw MC off the bed as he sat up, confused as to just why he felt the way he did (Hint: you feel well-rested Seven, something you’ve probably never felt in your life ever before)

* He has a renewed energy, like he’s a character in a videogame that took a max all stats potion, like a superhero-he won’t stop comparing his well-rested state to games all day, and MC has to bear with it, they made him this way after all lol

* From then on he’ll never ask for seperate beds ever again-he’ll only ever sleep well if MC is in his arms, and that’s that.

V/JIHYUN:

* It’s a little accidental how MC ended up staying over at his place-they were out drinking at his favorite wine bar with MC and Jumin, and MC seemed a little too tipsy by the end of the night to go home by themselves-even Jumin seemed worried, suggesting he and Driver Kim could take MC home instead of letting them go on their own.

* Well...that’d be fine, if MC would stop clinging onto V for like, five minutes. The moment Jumin tried to tug them away from V, MC started crying, saying he’s a big mean eggplant and ran back to V, hugging him tight and hiding their face onto his chest.

* Not gonna lie, Jihyun found the whole thing unbearably cute, and suggested he take MC to his place instead-in the most gentlemanly manner possible of course, only to let them rest and sober up so they can go home in the morning.

* Well, the clinging didn’t stop even when they were at V’s place-they barely let the poor minty boy grab a pair of pyjamas for each of them (and yeah, he secretly felt his heartbeat increase tenfold at the sight of his beloved wearing his clothes, be it oversized on them or not)

* He finally accepted his fate as he put MC in bed, ready to head to the couch to sleep, when MC grabbed his wrist, their eyes tearing up as they asked if he’s leaving them.

* So here Jihyun is, one arm beneath his head, the other rubbing soothing circles on MC’s back as he looks to their sleeping form, a pondering frown on his face.

* He tucks their hair behind their ear as they turn in their sleep, shuffling closer to V, breathing a sigh of relief as their nose nuzzles onto the cusp of his collarbone, and V huffs a small laugh at that. 

* He’s been so used to sleeping alone ever since Rika, he figured that’s just how his life would be from then on. He never thought he’d feel such fondness, such love for anyone else again, yet here he is, this person in his arms so precious he’s afraid of his own emotions towrards them. This isn’t a love like the sun-no, it’s like the stars, big, endless and lighting up the darkest of skies.

* He falls asleep just like that, his arm around MC, his eyes fluttering shut, and for once, he has no nightmares nor dreams-just a good night’s rest, letting him wake up refreshed to the first morning light as it preens through his half-shut curtains.

* MC is a blushing apologetic mess in the morning, but Jihyun just laughs, tugs them close and kisses them. 

* “Thank you for the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years” he says with a smile, and it’s true-he’s never slept better.

* From then on he tries to ask MC to stay over as frequent as possible, only able to rest if he feels their breaths match his own in the night.

This was too cute of a prompt i hope i did it justice aaaa

-Send me a mystic messenger scenario/prompt for character’s reactions!-

[benscursedkid]

Are you still doing the prompts thingy? May I request Felix x MC + 1...? You’re really good at writing!

of course you can!! i really appareciate it and thank you for requesting!!

trust me

felix x slytherin!mc!reader

words: 7.5k

genre: fluff, angst

warnings: (mention of??) major character death

a/n: as i stated before, when concerning a prefect, someone you only interact with if you are in their house, the mc in the piece will be in the same house as the prefect!! also!! these prompts are specifically designed to break your heart... so hopefully you’re prepared and hopefully i did them justice!!

also: i did take some creative liberties with the rosier family tree. i’m not quite sure where felix fits into it all, but being a rosier canonically makes him closely related to some of the op series characters and i wanted to play around with that. hope you all don’t mind!!

"I promise you, just trust me.”

It’s what he said to you when you’d met him again after graduation. It wasn’t planned, quite honestly, you weren’t even sure you’d ever see him again. He was a school crush, a lone part of your childhood that wasn’t tainted with pain and regret. He was a small flicker, the timid burning of light in the midst of all that’s gone wrong in your life until that point. If you were honest with yourself, you were glad that you ended things— not that there was much to end —like you did, able to keep that memory and acknowledgment of him in tact.

So, it was a slight understatement to say you were surprised to see him again, a little older, barely wiser, and freshly twenty years old.

It was December and the wind had begun to kiss your skin harshly, hitting and nipping at your cheeks in earnest. You huddled deeper into the warmth of your heavy winter coat, cursing yourself for opting out of wearing a hat. It whistled vioently in your ears as you searched for your solace in the form of the cozy bookstore peeking into your vision.

You make a beeline for the doors, your entire body immediately shuddering in relief upon entrance. A gloved hand flies up to your cheek and rubs furiously in the hopes to warm them, even if only a little.

The store clerk welcomed you charitably, a soft smile on his face and you returned it as best you could with a face still half frozen. Then with a pleasant nod, you disappeared into the throngs of bookshelves at the display, raking your finger down the spines as you passed.

Each title and set of initials blurred together as you disregarded them, a specific book in mind. Looking briefly above you at the surprising height of the shelves, you took a moment to admire the expansion charm cast on the shop, thanking Rowan for reccommending this place. Christmas shopping had never really been your forte, but thankfully, your mother had dropped the mention of her need for a new copy of her favorite book, her own having been worn and torn for a good while now.

It was as a certain title caught your eye when you heard your name, the voice confused, barely above a whisper.

On instinct your head shot up, your brows already drawn together. And when your eyes realized what they were seeing, they squinted, as if unsure the vision in front of them was really something produced in reality.

He was wrapped in the most formal overcoat you’ve seen so far this winter, the intricate black velvet traveling all the way down the length of it. Underneath was the softest looking grey jumper you’d ever seen and you had to refrain from reaching out to feel for yourself. His hair, as you always remembered it being, was perfectly slicked back, not a single strand out of place.

He was also older, you noticed, which of course you knew but it was more so something you felt than saw. You felt it in the silence that captured you swiftly after, in the weight of it hanging off both your shoulders. You felt it in the way he stared at you, definitely wiser and with many more experiences and first-hand accounts. His curious brown eyes sincere as they take you in for the first time in years.

“Felix?” You queried, even if there was no mistaking the man in front of you, the hint of a smile teasing your lips, something born of fondness and reminiscence.

His own lips twitched, almost as if the action were something unfamiliar. He nodded.

A small breath, akin to a chuckle escapes and you have the urge to hug him, greet him as old friends would, but you stop yourself. You don’t quite know what you were back in school, or now, but whatever it was, seven years without any contact can surely dull the the faint connection. Even as you look at him now, the memory of what you felt for him is simply that, a thing of the past.

“Wow,” You allow, little shame in the way your eyes take him in in recognition, with a tiny dose of interest. “It’s been a while.”

“Seven,” He mumbles in reply, the hint of rose on his cheeks. “It’s been seven years.”

“That’s right...”

Your words trial off and the two of you are left standing in moderate silence, the air around you heavy with recollection from your teenage years, both of yours. When you dreamed of freedom and a family in tact and he all but survived off coffee and two hours of sleep, worries of the future persistent and prominent.

Idly, you notice the book forgotten in his hands. Les Misérables. You smile.

The sound of him clearing his throat startles you back to reality and your gaze snaps back to his.

“Are you holiday shopping?”

He swallows the strange lump in his throat and his stare bounces, refusing to settle in a single spot. You wonder if you should be concerned by how endearing you find the idle action.

Nodding, you gesture to the books around you, not quite sure what to do with your hands. “Mum needs a new copy of her favorite. I’m just trying to find it.”

This time he smirks, no longer withholding the twist of his lips, the kind that you remember used to always succeed in picking up your heart rate. It still has some effect on you, something you’re not certain you’re comfortable with, but it’s far less drastic than it was when you were thirteen.

“Do you still like that muggle author?” Comes his response, dripping from his lips like honey; slow, sweet and a secret to share between you. “Austen?”

You’re about to laugh, hardly able to believe the fact that he remembered something so trivial, when you realize you never told him. You frown.

His pretty brown orbs ask a silent question and you decide to join them. “How did you know I liked Jane Austen? I don’t think I ever told you, as far as I can remember at least.”

“Oh, well, you feel asleep reading Mansfield Park in the common room at least five times a month,” He laughed, a light, airy sound that rings nicely in your ears like wind chimes. “It wasn’t difficult to figure out.”

A laugh of your own tumbled from your lips, stiff and haphazard, but genuine all the same. “I’m just surprised you know Austen.”

Felix shrugged, his shoulders lolling lazily. “I didn’t at the time, but I thought if you loved it so much then it must have been worth a read.”

An eyebrow quirks. “You like Jane Austen?”

“I like Mansfield Park,” He corrects and you roll your eyes, but your smile still sticks to your skin.

You consider teasing him further, but your common sense stops you. Instead, you opt for something else.

“I’m surprised you remembered.”

“Me, too...”

For a moment, all is still. Felix’s eyes seem transfixed, charmed in a sense. A light mirth dances behind his iris, a look you like to think he doesn’t give out to just everyone. The way they gleam, stars reflected inside from the candles lighting the shelves running a shiver down your spine.

You open your mouth to say something else, you don’t know what, but you’re sure you’ll figure it out, when he adverts his gaze down to his watch. A sound of shock leaves him and his lips tug downward. He curses.

“Is something wrong?”

He glances back to you, a regretful quirk of features protrude. “No, I just— uh, should get going. I’ll be late for work, but it was... nice seeing you again, MC.”

You can’t help the upturn of your lips, no longer attempting to hide it. “You, too...”

He fidgets, his fingers twitching, his eyes skittering over to the door, the thought of arriving late obviously weighing heavily on his mind. Still, he bites his lip— an action you’ve never seen from him before —and shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

“Will I, uh— will I see you again?” He ponders, gaze much more hopeful than it was a few minutes ago.

Without even needing time for thought, your head bobs of its own accord. “I hope so.”

A brilliant grin engulfs his face, his entire expression lighting up at the thought.

Your knees go a little weak.

“Then I’ll see you around...”

And he did.

It had taken him almost an entire month to ask you out on a proper date, one that consisted of a bit more than just stolen glances and poorly disguised smiles, on Christmas Day. It tumbled clumsily from his mouth in a subtle panic, the apples of his cheeks red, and this time not from the bitter cold, but instead the way you broke into a dazzling smile.

It was certainly unexpected, the chain of events that suddenly began when you ran into him that fateful day, but you suppose the best things never are.

It’s what he said to you when the rumors started.

You’d been together for a year now, your anniversary having just passed. You remembered why you fancied him back in school, though truth be told, you never really forgot.

Felix was just so different from anyone else you’d ever met, even back then. He wasn’t a man of grand gestures or romantic schemes, but a collector of smiles and little moments. Things you mention mindlessly in passing, jokes you manage to get out through heaps of laughter, and tiny, little infinitesimal insecurities muttered in the middle of the night; those are the things he stores away, remembers for safe-keeping.

Oh, yeah you suppose the fact that his little half-smile is the most endearing thing you’ve ever seen helps, too.

For the first time in years, you find that you couldn’t care less what the future looks like. So long as Felix is there beside you, whatever it is can’t be that bad. It’s something you didn’t think you could feel, not after Jacob at least.

You thought that trust would forever be an issue with you, something you just wouldn’t be able to get past, which is why it came as a shock to you to realize that all the walls and barriers you’ve built around yourself for years seem to simply bow to him. Just being near him causes them all to shiver, tremble in his wake, their exteriors much more brittle than you recall them to be. It’s incredible, to feel this way; lighter and complete and dizzy with happiness.

And it scares the hell out of you.

Though, you muse, isn’t that what love’s supposed to do?

Looking back, you should have known it wouldn’t last, nothing good ever does. You knew that. You knew that but you dared to hope, dared to ignore the voice in the back of your head, the one that screams from past experience and heartache to just… stay on guard. But you refused. You’ve already played the cynic, wasn’t it your turn to be the dreamer?

“You see the ‘prophet today?” Talbott asked, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him, putting down his half eaten lunch- a measly six inch sandwich he’d thrown together this morning before bolting out the door for work.

Swallowing your own food, you shake your head, the only other employee aside from the two of you taking their leave from the ministry’s break room.

The animagus frowned and pulled out his own copy from his overcoat, the page folded together in nine perfect squares. After successfully unfolding it, he slides it across the small table to you, rightside up for you to read. Your eyes catch on the title, everything else blurring into a jumble of illegible signs and symbols.

“DIGGORY BOY DEAD, “VOLDEMORT RETURNS!” — CLAIMS THE BOY WHO LIVED”

You glare at the print in front of you, as if the ink itself had offended you. The words stare back at you, unyielding.

Talbott reaches out to take the paper back, observing you carefully. Snapping back to reality, you shake your head.

It’s then that you notice the slight, almost unnoticeable shadow cast under his eyes and the anxious sag of his shoulders. He’s jittery, you realize, recalling his unsettled actions from earlier this morning.

You lick your lips hesitantly. “Talbott—”

“Do you think it’s true?” Frowning, your head tilts in confusion. Your friend sighs. “Do you think he’s really back?”

Taking a deep breath, your eyes wander back to the article. Supposedly penned by Rita Skeeter, you’re sure it’s a huge exaggeration to say the least, but she also seems to be on the ministry’s side, which happens to be against Harry Potter’s.

You decide to tell him the only thing you can.

“I don’t know,” You explain, Talbott’s face crumbling with worry. You know it’s not what oh wanted to hear, it’s not what you wanted to say, but it’s the truth. You can’t lie to him. “The ministry hasn’t exactly been the most reliable source these days, we both know that, but Harry’s just a kid, Tal. I mean, how old is he? fourteen?”

“You were fourteen,” He insists, his tone unsteady and uncertain. You’ve rarely seen him this way, you think, afraid and riddled with worry so heavy his cares go out the window.

You don’t like it. This kind of feeling never looks good on anyone.

“You were fourteen,” He repeats, a tired hand taking through his hair, causing the strands to tangle and tumble every which way. “When you entered the third cursed vault, having battled several boggarts, an ice knight, an acromantula, a cloaked figure who tried to kill you... so why is this so hard to believe?”

He’s right. You know he is. And for the second time today you wish you could give him the answer he wants, the answer he needs, and again you can’t. This friendship of yours, as slow as it started, has become one of the most important things in your life and it was built on honesty. So if you couldn’t give him what he wanted to hear, the least you could give him is the truth.

He’s staring at you when you finally relent and his eyes hold the most unlikely mix of dread and foolish hope.

“Because I don’t want to.”

That conversation sticks with you for the rest of the day, your attention stolen by all the possible things that could be happening out there in the current moment.

Is Voldemort sitting with his allies, his most loyal followers, and planning his revenge? Is Harry Potter at school, attending his classes with a pretty mouthful of secrets? Or maybe he’s at a funeral, with a heart full of regrets for a passed friend? And the rest of your friends, have they heard the news yet? Are they as afraid as you are? As guilt-ridden as Talbott?

Then a last thought crosses your mind.

Is Voldemort out rallying his followers?

It makes your blood run cold, the image flowing through your conscious not one you particularly enjoy. Would he come after Felix, the son of a known Death Eater?

It’s these questions that plague you when you return home, tired and stressed and oh so worried. You want to smile when you see Felix’s shoes in the entry, able to deduce that he’d got off early, but you can’t. Not today.

You maneuver your way around the half empty moving boxes, your place an utter mess. It looks like a tornado flew through here but at the moment, you had other things in your mind.

Like your boyfriend, sitting silently by the window, cold, abandoned coffee at his side.

He must have heard you come in, you decide, probably having heard the door open and close. Though, if he’s aware of your presence, he doesn’t show it. He simply stares out the window, small and withdrawn.

Growing restless in the quiet, you speak up first.

“You’re home early,” You announce your observation, putting your things down on the sole couch in this cluttered space. “How was work?”

A beat passes and he says nothing. You don’t make him, knowing that he’ll speak when he’s ready. You’re proven correct moments later when his deep voice responds, hoarse and heavy.

“They gave me the day off,” He replies easily, his eyes refusing to part from the view before him. “Said I could use it to get my thoughts together.”

It’s then you realize he must have been sitting there all day. No boxes have been unpacked, his shoes practically untouched and his coffee left forgotten. You wonder where his thoughts have been.

You stop to ponder your next move, contemplate which approach would get you closer. To him, and how he feels, and what he thinks will come.

However, he doesn’t give you the chance, tossing you a copy of the paper Talbott showed you earlier that you didn’t know he had. Its crumpled and torn, as if he’d been clutching it all day, wishing he’d read every word wrong. You know you do.

“I expect you’ve seen it then,” He declares, his voice low and even, calm despite what you know is probably weighing on him. It would unnerve you if you didn’t share the same habit. “You’d have said something by now if you hadn’t.”

You don’t try to deny it, there’d be no use. Instead, you ask what you’ve been dying to since you walked in.

“Do you think they’ll look for you?”

You blink. Once, twice.

“Yeah,” He still doesn’t face you. “Probably.”

You let out a shaky breath, but stumble over to him nonetheless. You take a seat next to him, slowly so as not to startle him. You skip a glance at his profile, slightly shadowed with the dull grey of the dripping sky which seems to reflect the day’s spirit.

Without a word, you look to the view. “What are we going to do?”

It’s only now that he turns his head, his brown hair a scattered mess and his drooping sad eyes fading no better. Your heart breaks just a little in your chest.

“I don’t know.”

You gulp, but nod along without much choice. There’s nothing one can say to that, not really. So, in lieu of coming up with some hearted variation of “we’re gonna be okay”, your palm finds his cheek, your thumb rubbing soft loving circles into the skin. Felix leans into the touch, his head gentle rolling onto your shoulder.

Together, the two of you sit like that for the remainder of the day, listening to the rain pitter patter against the window like tears, trying not to think of what’s to come.

And the morning after, once the sky has finished crying and the two of you have taken another step closer to accepting the today’s truth, he finally says it. Slow and sweet like honey in your ear, "I promise you, just trust me, MC. We’ll be okay.” You know he’s lying, but you choose to believe he’s not.

It’s easier that way.

It’s what he says when they come for him.

Harry Potter is fifteen now and things have only gotten worse. The ministry has taken over your old school, fired half the staff, and even managed to chase Dumbledore out. You never thought you’d see the day that man steps down, but you suppose nothing is inevitable.

Things at the ministry are much the same. Everyone is on edge, no matter whether they believe Harry’s claims or not, the place is a mess. Those that disagree are fighting regularly and everybody is becoming increasingly more paranoid, even you. Felix has made it his life’s mission to ignore it all, pretend all is as it used to be. He tells you it’s because he refuses to let another war ruin his life just as things started looking up, and quite frankly you agree.

So the two of you don’t talk about it. His family is never mentioned and especially not his parents. You don’t blame him for wanting to get away, if they were your family, you’d do the same. Instead, you go to work and act as if everyone else is just drunk on fire whiskey. You find the time to go out on dates, visit your friends and pretend everything isn’t falling to shit. It’s the only thing you know how to do at this point.

Currently, you’re busy cleaning the last of the mess left by your friends. Angelica had her birthday yesterday but insisted that it be held at your place. Felix wanted to decline, plan it at Chester’s or Penny’s, but you were able to convince him. Your place was the biggest, so it only made sense that you hold it there.

Still, you can see now why he was worried.

There are half eaten cupcakes and gift wrapping everywhere, frosting stuck to your counter and confetti in every nook and corner.

You pout, not looking forward to a morning of cleaning everyone else’s mess. Felix chuckles, amused. “C’mon, I’ll help.”

And with that you get to work. It takes a while, but you enjoy yourselves, a muggle radio playing music for you to listen to as you work, taking short breaks to laugh and mess around.

It’s just past noon when everything is clean, your dishes and rags all put away. Sharing a high five, Felix tells you to change and you can go out for lunch. Excited, you head over to get dressed.

Surpringly, you finish before he does, him needing extra time to fix his beloved hair. This leaves you to wait, twiddling your thumbs and tapping your foot impatiently. You’re about to shout, ask him what’s taking so long when there’s a knock on your door.

Curious and without much else to do, you stride over to the door. Glancing though the peep hole, you see something you never thought you would. Or, maybe you did, you just didn’t want to accept it.

Standing there behind your door is a man and a woman. A man and a woman whom you notice are entirely too familiar. A man with long white hair and stoney grey eyes and a woman with elegant black curls and lips dark and pursed.

“We know you’re home,” The woman drawls, rolling her eyes impatiently. “Just open up, dear.”

Realizing you don’t have a choice, that these are people you just can’t refuse, you steady your breathing. A hand rests on your chest for a beat.

You open the door, gingerly, cautiously.

Swinging the door open, you’re greater with the same sight, not that you expected anything else. The man smiles upon seeing your face, a twisted, charming smile that leaves bile in your mouth. The woman cocks her head, studying you for only a moment before grinning similarly, but with much more mirth and malice.

“Lucius,” You acknowledge with a curt nod, formal and cold. You refuse to to give your thoughts away. “Bellatrix.”

“MC,” Lucius greets customarily, his eyes appraising his surroundings. “Good to see you again.”

Briefly your mind wanders back to when you were introduced, fleetingly exchanging pleasantries at a dinner party for the ministry before being swept away by your respective company. you try your best not to grimace.

“You as well,” The lie drips easily from your mouth as if it were something you’ve always known. You think perhaps you have. “Pardon my blantance,” you lick your lips, never one to beat around the bush, drawing Bellatrix’s attention back to you. “But is there a reason for this particular visit?”

Lucius’ lips quirk, a smirk begging to settle on his face, silently impressed with your boldness. Meanwhile, Bellatrix refrains from scowling, but the way her eyes settle on you in dark disapproval is enough for.

Without wasting any more time for small talk, Lucius clears his throat. “Is Felix home?” He questions, growing tired with formalities himself.

Your heart drops, your blood runs cold, and you swear something in the house breaks. The security, the hopefulness, the dream, the unanswered wishes. Something that you haven’t realized you’ve been clinging to until now.

Squaring your shoulders back, your eyes steeling over and your expression hardening, you take a step back, allowing them entry. Bellatrix strolls ungracefully in, not even bothering to hide the way her face twists with dissatisfaction. Lucius’ brow arches before he, too, makes his way inside.

The woman strides past the shoes placed so obviously by the entryway, walking around to observe the minimal decoration you have set up around your abode. Malfoy, on the other hand, spares it a glance, a brief consideration, then takes a cautionary seat on the couch. With that settled, you excuse yourself to yours and Felix shared room.

You knock sagely on the door, waiting until he opens it with a grin, his hair finalized and his spirits high, completely unaware of the pressing situation accommodating itself in your living room.

Upon noticing your expression, he frowns in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“We have company,” You settle with, sharing with him a distrusting look.

Without further prompt, he takes your hand and leads you into the next room.

Two heads turn in your direction when you return, and you can feel the way Felix stiffens, his hand squeezing yours just that much tighter. You squeeze back, a subtle reminder that you’re still here and luckily it seems to calm him some. At the very least he’s able to nod respectfully to your company in greeting, a charming yet painfully artificial smile tugging at his mouth.

“Hello, Rosier,” Malfoy welcomes him, standing to offer your boyfriend his now outstretched hand. Felix takes it delicately, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “It’s been a while.”

“That it has,” He agrees, nodding more so to himself than anyone else. You stare between them silently, your eyes fleeting over to Bellatrix still in the corner every so often. “And it’s not like I don’t adore your company, Lucius, but MC and I have prior arrangements.”

Malfoy hums in understanding, the baritone of his voice flowing smoothly between the empty space. It sends a shiver up your spine. “My apologies, regretfully we weren’t able to offer a notice of our arrival in advance but we were only given our orders this morning.”

Our orders.

Orders.

This was it, isn’t it? The moment you’ve been trying for so long to deny, what you’ve been ignoring since the start. They’ve come for him, haven’t they? That means the rumors aren’t just rumors anymore. Voldemort’s alive... a war is coming.

Coming.

You breathe in, your mask still held perfectly in place. You will not allow people like them to see through you, it simply isn’t an option. They won’t detect your fear or you be damned.

Felix seems to make the same assumption, an epiphany running haywire behind the dark hues of his chocolate irises. He chuckles.

“Oh really, is that so?” It’s a laugh this time, fuller than his minuscule chuckle, broader, coaxing. Challenging. He walks over to the counter in your kitchen, leaning coyly against the marble. He smirks. You wait. “I didn’t think Lucius Malfoy took orders from anyone.”

It’s a ploy, so arrogant and obvious, you’d have to be deaf to think otherwise. His tone is lilt and measured, calculated and dangerous. The deep rumble settles in his chest and briefly you wonder if he’d give the same tone to Voldemort.

Because that’s exactly what this is. The Malfoy’s haven’t visited Felix since the death of his cousin, Evan, upon Narcissa’s insistence. It’s a shame really, Felix rather liked her, far more than Bellatrix anyway. With Bella gone, Evan dead, Andromeda disowned and Narcissa tackling the challenge of motherhood, it’s been a while since he’d seen any of his cousins, really.

They all knew that. And they all knew why they were here now, it doesn’t take Occulmency to figure out. But he needs to hear him say it. He needs the words to leave his mouth, or he thinks he might go crazy. That way there’s no room doubt.

Lucius senses this, sparing a quick glance over to his companion who has just finished her tour– likely not without pickpocketing something of interest –he opens his mouth to speak but she beats him to it.

“Aw, really cousin?” She frowns, her tone scratchy and playful, punching. She smiles wickedly, barely any trace of sanity left in the crevices of her lips. A hand flies up to play with her hair. “You graduated top of your class, I thought you’d be smarter than that.”

You watch quietly as Felix shrugs, folding his arms over his chest. “Perhaps,” He concedes calmly as you struggle not to bite your lip. “But I suppose caution and paranoia is a family trait, isn’t it Bella?”

A genuine grin breaks out across her face now, clearly amused, enjoying their banter much more than she had yours. “I prefer to think of it as... insurance.”

“Then you don’t mind me asking, Bella? For insurance?”

She giggles, low but manic, and a little bit out of it. It suits her, you think. “Clever boy.”

Lucius clears his throat, having finally gathered his wits and turns back to your boyfriend. “Excuse my vagueness, Felix, but as I’m sure you’re aware... the Dark Lord isn’t one you can just disobey.”

A silence sinks onto the four of you, nestling itself into your limbs, itching at your skin. It was what you’d been waiting for, but suddenly you wish you could take it back.

“I take it you’ve heard of his return,” Malfoy inquires, walking back to sit on the couch, nodding placatingly in your direction.

“...I thought they were rumors, if I’m being honest.”

“They’re true,” Bellatrix beams, stepping closer to her cousin, her similarly dark eyes wild. “He’s back.”

“We know you may be hesitant,” Malfoy drawls, his fingers drumming lowly on his walking stick, beating against the head of a silver snake. “With what happened to your cousin and all.”

Felix says nothing and somehow it’s you who finds words pushing past your teeth.

“Oh, you mean how he died?” You snark, all three sets of eyes snapping over to yours. Bellatrix takes you in as if she’d forgotten you were present while Felix hides any emotion behind his facade.

Bellatrix looks as if she wants to snap, bite something back at you, but she doesn’t. No, they need Felix to go with them, so she won’t risk angering him. You take a sense of pride in that.

“Yes, a rather unfortunate fate, but I assure you, Miss L/N, that won’t happen again this time.”

“How can you be so certain, Lucius?” Felix quips without missing a beat.

The white haired man back tracks, folding his words into himself in of fear saying too much. He looks on between the two of you with cold, dead eyes.

“I’m afraid I’m not at much liberty to say, Rosier,” He laments, clearly trying to bribe you, intrigue you with the curiosity that comes with a question in need of answering. “But I am certain that, should you accept it, there is a very respectable place for you among us.”

Felix looks to you in an obvious display of concern, not for your well-being, no he’s aware of your strength. They hold a concern, a question of where you stand in this arrangement of theirs.

The tired man catches this and corrects himself. “Both of you.”

It’s now that Bellatrix closes in on him, her pale hand reaching up to latch onto his shoulder. Her head tilts to reach his ear and you watch as her lips move, but the sound does not reach you. She whispers something soft in his ear, intimate and persuasive, as if they’d been close for years.

When she’s finally finished, Lucius raises an expectant eyebrow in Felix’s direction. “So?” The man queries, curiosity lacing his voice like sugar. “What do you say?”

You can practically see the cogs in his head turn as he runs through his options and you’re ashamed to admit it, but for a moment you’re unsure of what his answer will be. His parents will surely disown him for refusing, even if they’re not exactly on the best of terms at present. It’s his family... that’s bound to influence him even a little, right?

Exhaling, Felix blinks and observes them one last time before walking to his door and opening it with vigor.

He gestures to it, holding it open. “I’m afraid we can’t spare much more time as we’re already late. MC and I really must get going.”

No. He told them no. It’s as clear as if he’d said the words themselves. As invariable as the sun coming up in the morning and obvious as the color of the sky, Felix turned them down.

And they know it.

Admittedly stunned, Lucius and Bellatrix slowly make their way towards the exit held wide open for them. Bellatrix snorts in passing, leaving her cousin behind without a second thought, marching out of your home in earnest. But Lucius stops at the doorframe, looking back to Felix in a final chance for reconsideration.

“Are you sure?” He presses, eyes sliding past you, focused on who they really came here for.

Felix nods. “Quite.”

With nothing left to say, Lucius Malfoy disappears from sight, taking Felix’s last connection to his family with him. The door clicks minutely shut and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

The silence that takes place in your house feels too big, like it stretches far beyond just these walls. You almost expect him to say something, the drown it out, but instead he takes big steps towards you and grabs your hand.

Before you know it, you’re outside. The sun is beating down on you feverishly, as if it were praising you, it’s favorite person in the world. Pale grass brushes up against your knees and the sky looks bluer than you last recall. But what really catches your attention is a house, towering above you unevenly, random windows doecorating the front that look strangely endearing and yet oh so out of place.

Your mind spins, nothing connecting, no thoughts formulating nor your surroundings making sense. You frown in utter confusion and look to Felix for help, but when your eyes meet his, what stares back at you a reflection, someone who is just as scared as you.

If anything it makes you more afraid.

Nonsensical sounds leave your mouth in broken fragments and sentences, words failing you completely. Felix shushes you softly, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

“Shh, it’s okay. Hey, don’t worry, everything is fine,” He coerces you into deep breaths, his fingers tracing random patterns on the apple of your cheeks. Your heartbeat calms but you still feel as if you’re at the bottom of a swimming pool.

“Where are we? What are we doing here?”

“It’s the Weasley estate,” Felix replies, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “We need their help now, MC.”

“Felix, what just happened? Did they–”

“Yes, they did,” It’s not what you wanted, but it’s all he has and a cold sweat sticks to your skin. “So we can’t go back there. They won’t be happy about my decision, MC, so we need somewhere else to go.”

“What about Chester? Or Tonks or Orion or–”

“We can’t put them in danger,” He rebuffs, shaking his head sorrowfully. He looks just as broken as you do, just as lost, and that terrifies you. “We need to lie low, okay? You can do that for me, right?”

You stutter, still processing the events of your day. Had you known this would happen when you woke up this morning, you would have stayed in bed. It all escalated so quickly, you’re not even sure it’s donned on you yet what exactly it is you’ve just done. The world spins around you.

“I promise you, just trust me.”

You look up at the sound of his voice and your eyes meet his. He’s scared, and lost, and worried and suddenly you realize that he doesn’t have all the answers.

But it’s okay.

You’re in this together now, and if you had to go to war with anyone by your side, you thank your lucky star that it happens to be him.

“I do.”

You wiggled the keys in the door, cursing under your breath until it finally opened. Releasing a sigh, you hauled the thing open, tossing the keys onto the nearby end table and removing your shoes, allowing it to click shut behind you.

You cast a dreadful look around the place.

It’s the same, you’re aware. Physically nothing has changed since you were here last; nothing moved or altered in any way. The hand-picked drapes are still hanging from the window, your shoes still sit by the door, your pictures decorate the walls just as they always have. It’s almost eerie how similar it looks, yet for the life of you you can’t recognize it.

It’s not your home anymore.

Not able to stand the silence much longer, you let your feet drag against the wooden floor as you make your way to your room. You’re not ready, not yet. You know that, but you also know that you can’t avoid it forever.

He wouldn’t want you to.

Your hand wraps carefully around the handle and you press your forehead against it, only for a moment, before you pull away and bite the bullet. A shaky inhale and another minute later, you finally push it open.

The first thing you notice is the quietness surrounding the room, like an aura. You could feel in your bones how empty it was, as if the air around you was weeping, crying out in isolation. You find you can’t relate, not these days when socializing of any kind seems to be more of a chore than a normalcy. Still, you sympathize with whatever the feeling is, knowing the pain first hand.

It’s weird, you think, how completely untouched by the pain and destruction of war and the time it took to finally end it. You’re almost angry, at how this was able to stay the same when everything else in your life was bent out of shape, played out of tune.

Your legs move mindlessly, eager to explore, to what what else slipped past the war’s watchful eye. They take you to your closet, the huge thing left to collect dust in your absence.

You and Felix had to leave pretty much everything behind when you joined the Order. It was too risky to come return to the house when Voldemort’s followers were watching you. Luckily, the Order was able to help provide you with things like clothes until you’d gotten settled in— Tonks in particular was very generous, but you were unfortunately unable to come back to retrieve the ones you left behind.

Reaching out, your grip latches onto a certain sweater all the way far in the back, buried underneath old t-shirts, worn button-ups, and mismatched gloves. You pull it out.

The stitching is a little loose around the hem and splitting by the neckline. The grey has faded and the thin green streaks around the cuffs are almost indistinguishable. You don’t think you’d be able to identify it were it not for the small pin resting by the right of the chest.

Under any other circumstances you’d probably smile, reminiscing on your school days and perhaps even tease him. Ask why he still has it and why he hasn’t kept up with it, why it’s just sitting in the darkest corner of the closet. Today though, all you can do is pull it into your chest, hugging it just long enough to collect yourself before you gingerly tuck it back into its place. You shut the closet and collapse into the bed.

It feels bigger without him in it.

You’re about ready to waste away the rest of the day exactly like this, your heart heavy and soul tired, but you attempt one last glance around first. You don’t know what you’re looking for, maybe something to convince you that this isn’t your life now, that the last few weeks never happened, but you find it.

There’s a hand wrapped package sitting on his desk, pushed into the corner so far you nearly missed it. It’s tied together with plain string, but you notice the familiar scrawl painted across it.

Jumping up from your spot on the bed, you bound over to it, tearing it open without a second thought.

Your vision is immediately flooded with words upon words etched into prestine white parchment in thick black ink. It’s in Felix’s handwriting, of course like you expected, but for a minute you debate not reading it. You’re not sure you can bare whatever thoughts he decided to write into tangible reality, regardless of the contents, but you quickly shut that down. You’re too curious for your own good, something he always loved to remind you.

So, trying to steady your hands long enough for you to read the script, you sit down to do just that.

05/01/98’

MC,

I’ve gone through probably a hundred pieces of parchment and yet I still can’t find a decent way to start this. You’d think with the war I’d have my wits about me, but I suppose everyone has to play the fool at some point, right?

To tell you the truth, I don’t even think I know what I’m trying to say here. There’s so many things going on both in my head and around us as I’m writing this, I was barely able to get this moment to myself. But I had to get away. I had to write this. With this war finally coming to a head, I fear what lies in tomorrow’s horizon. Fate, as I’ve come to realize, is so arbitrary. Perhaps there is nothing to it but odds and dumb luck. Either way, we can’t know what happens next, and as morbid as the thought is, there are some things I have to say before the day breaks. I don’t have a lot of time, so I will try to make it brief.

I love you. I know it’s nothing new, but I just thought you should hear it one last time.

Also, I suppose I wanted to say sorry. If you’re reading this then that means that my luck has run out. So I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I can’t be there when you need me the most. I’m sorry that it had to be me who broke us and I’m sorry that you have to do this on your own. I’m sorry I left you.

Lastly, I wanted to marry you.

I know that’s it likely unfair of me to say this, seeing as it is now a dream that could never become reality, but it’s true. I think I’ve known this for a while now, but it’s just always been a thought, an idea, something to look forward to. And even if our time together was much shorter than I’d hoped, just know that it was worth it. I’ve left this earth a happy man, MC, for nothing on this earth, be it magical or otherwise, could ever compare to loving you. Not in a thousand lifetimes. Though a future together is something that we can’t have, I hope you’ll still persevere, like I know you can, to love the life you can still have. This world is on its knees, and it’s begging for someone like you to take advantage of it and all it has to offer.

So promise me you’ll try. For me.

Until Tomorrow,

Felix

You read it several times before it become illegible, the tears in your eyes splashing onto the paper and blurring your vision. You shake your head, unable to do anything else, and the parchment slips from between your fingers, floating softly to the ground.

You try to flick the tears away, but they just keep coming, unbidden. They continue to do so even after your eye catches on something hidden in the wrapping of the package and you pick it up with a trembling hand.

It’s a wedding ring, the kind you always imagined you’d have as a child; beautiful and sparkling and made just for you. This is made even more apparent when you see the inscription on the inside of the band, obviously something Felix had required.

“I promise you, just trust me.”

Without anything left to do, you slip it onto your finger and allow yourself to sob well into the night. You sob not only for the man you lost, but for the future that died with him.

[lovehugsandcandy]

It’s Only a Game (Part 5/Interlude) (N*FW)

A/N: Thanks for reading! This is completely AU now and I am pretending that Chapter 10 on never happened. After the last chapter, I wanted something to make me happy again :-). This is N*FW (I have never written anything like this before but, I guess like Ellie, I too am trying new things). If you don’t read this, you will not miss anything in the story, really, and this will be the only N*FW part.

Pairing: Colt x MC

Rating/Warning: N*FW --- people have sex in this part. PLEASE do not read if you don’t want to see that. I know Ellie is in high school but she’s also 18 so I went back and forth and back and forth on this. She is legally an adult and is experimenting a lot with who she wants to be and what she wants to do (and the repercussions of those choices) so, for me, this fits in with her story. If it doesn’t for you, no worries.

Length: 2906 words

Summary: Ellie spends the night in Colt’s bed. For real this time.

Tags (LMK if you want to be added or removed...I am really bad at tags and apologize in advance): @deimosensblog @alegria1580  @choicesarehard @thefarrari @client-327 @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown @jolietmaraud @soniadotalves

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This is only for fun.

IF YOU DIDN’T READ THE RATING, PLEASE READ THE RATING. THIS IS N*FW. Thanks! <3

Ellie pulled into the shop; it seemed so cliche, but her cheeks hurt from smiling. She had never been as exhilarated as when she crossed the finish line seconds before Salazar. Yes, she had lost a side view mirror and one of her bumpers was cracked, but that could all be repaired. However, nothing would replace the joy that she felt when she caught sight of his face behind the steering wheel. She hoped this feeling would never fade.

Colt sat next to her. His motorcycle was in a few pieces on the floor of the shop, so he rode shotgun with her all night and his delighted whoop as they crossed the finish line was burned him her brain. She wasn't exactly sure where they stood but he had been her shadow all night, standing close and sneaking touches in ways that felt entirely too intimate for the public space. She saw Mona shooting her a knowing look at one point and she flushed, but she was so light and happy that she couldn't bring herself to truly care.

He smirked at her. "You almost make me want to get back behind the wheel so I could take you on."

"Ha. You don’t stand a chance." She grinned back, a flush of heat running through her as their eyes met. She bit her lip and thought of the night after the Masquerade Ball. They had both been so exhausted that they had fallen into Colt's bed, half asleep, but there was something sweet about being there, wrapped in his t-shirt with his arm securely around her waist. The morning was a bit less sweet, more spice, as Colt had woken her up with lingering kisses down her neck, pulling the back of the t-shirt down to kiss lower and lower, down her shoulders, marking her where no one would see.

Colt's voice brought her back to the present. "Wanna make a bet on that?" He raised an eyebrow, leaning across the console.

She smiled, watching his eyes travel down her face as she got closer, and leaned into him, taunting, “I’m not scared. You have a habit of not collecting on those bets.” Finally, she crossed the final inches and their lips met. Ellie didn't think he would ever get tired of this, his lips insistent on hers, fingers threading through her hair. She deepened the kiss, clutching the front of his jacket. His hands moved to her hips, sliding to her thighs before grasping and suddenly pulling her over the center console and onto his lap. She looked up in shock. "Smooth, Colt. Smooth."

"I know," he smirked and leaned back in, capturing her lips again. She settled into him, gripping his hair, while his hands settled on the sides of her skirt. His fingers traced unintelligible patterns over the hem and underneath, swirling touches that had had her arching against him. His lips moved to behind her ear and she couldn't think, could only pant for breath as his lips traveled to her neck and lower still.

The car was suddenly bathed in light and Ellie could see Logan's Devore GT pulling into the bay.

"Dammit," Colt pulled away, kissing her lips one last time before he turned to place her back on the driver's seat.

Ellie stopped him with a hand to his jaw, turning his face so she could stare into his eyes. "Later." She looked at him meaningfully, watching his mouth drop open in understanding.

"Later?"

Ellie nodded decisively. "Later." She slid back to her seat and pulled open the door without a backwards glance.

~~~~~

Ellie slowly sat up in bed and cautiously looked over at Logan. She had waited five minutes since he fell asleep to be sure; she probably should wait longer, but she absolutely couldn't stand it. Her feet hit the cool floor and she paused; when Logan didn’t stir, she tiptoed, past the creaky floor boards, and walked the path to Colt’s basement room.

She paused at the door. She knew she wanted this, wanted him, but taking this step seemed, again, like falling into an abyss she didn’t know if she could escape from. She didn’t know if she wanted to escape from it.

She blinked as the door creaked open. Colt stood there, barefoot. He must have heard her creep down the hall. “Hey.” He stood back, studying her as she walked in, and closed the door behind her.

“Hi.” She was suddenly shy, staring at him. She had been so sure, thinking of him, caught up in the wanting, and now that he was standing in front of her, real and solid, she was unsteady. She knew what she wanted but she never thought, in this place, this mix between a den of thieves and family of orphans, this was where she could finally have sex. She couldn’t even think about it without feeling her cheeks redden.

Colt could obviously see her hesitation and he frowned, tilting his head at her, his eyes searching her face. “Listen, we can just go to sleep, ok. We don’t need to-”

Ellie took a deep breath and cut him off. She wanted this, more than she wanted freedom from her dad, more than she wanted to be valedictorian, more than anything. Quickly, she moved to him, she was standing so close she could feel his heat, smell his cologne. “Yeah, we don’t need to do anything.” She looked up and subconsciously wet her lips. “But I want to.”

She saw Colt blink and suddenly, his lips were on hers and she was done thinking. She gave as good as she got, folding into him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as his hands grabbed her hips possessively. Their lips and tongues tangled and he slowly guided her backwards until her back hit his dresser. Their mouths never separating, he grabbed hold of her hips and slid her on top of the low surface, settling between her legs so she could wrap her calves around his waist. They were impossibly close and Ellie wanted him even closer, digging her nails into his back to urge him forward and fuse any distance between them.

Eagerly, she grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled up. Colt quickly obliged, pulling his shirt over his head and returning to her lips, kissing her breathless. She ran her hands over the planes of his chest, definition of his abs, and felt a familiar heat starting to build. She had just started to grind her hips, a small slow motion to get friction where she needed it, when Colt kissed a blazing path to her ear and spoke.

"You didn’t seem so sure a second ago..." 

Ellie sat, confused, as he breathed in, still next to her ear, small puffs of air that sent sparks through her stomach and made her bare her neck. He took the obvious invitation, lips running down to her neck, all suction and heat. She tried to catch her breath. "It’s just...." she stopped, struggling to put it into words. "I've never. I want it to be with you."

Understanding dawned and he leaned back to look at her. "You've never had sex."

She shrugged and looked away, blushing slightly. "You were my first kiss too, you know. I just....I trust you." God, she did, though it was going be her unraveling. 

He looked at her, teeth worrying over his lower lip. "And you want to. With me." She had seen Colt a lot of ways, happy, content, shocked, furious, but she had never seen him as vulnerable as he was now. 

She reached a hand out, pulling him close and kissing him, slowly, languidly. He relaxed into her arms, running his hands down her back, and pulled back to look at her, searching eyes boring into hers, eyebrow raised. "I'm tired of waiting for my life to begin. I want to live, not just watch other people live....." she trailed off, sighing, a pang of regret. Finally, with all the confidence she could muster, she nodded. “Yes. I want to. With you.”

Colt smirked and kissed her, hard. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” She felt his fingers trail up her stomach and her shirt quickly followed and was thrown on the floor, somewhere. His hands went into her hair as his lips went down, down, a fiery path of lips and tongue and teeth. Her head lolled backwards as his mouth found a nipple. 

Ellie had never had anyone touch her like this. She would have been shy, half-naked in front of a boy, but the heat of his hands and the feel his mouth crowded everything out of her mind.

Well, except one thing. “Wait. Wait wait wait.”

He looked up at her, still at her chest, and she could feel his cheek, soft against her. 

“Have you?”

“Have I what?” The puff of his breath made goosebumps form and she shivered.

“Have you ever....you know.....” Ellie flushed and regretted speaking. She would rather not know and get on with it but, as her current situation would attest, she wasn’t great at curbing her impulses sometime.

Colt stood up to kiss her, deeply, sliding his hand under her thighs. He pulled back to look intently at her. “...Never with you.”

With that, he lifted her up; Ellie threw her arms around his neck so she wouldn’t fall and held on, giggling, as he turned and dropped her on the bed; his lips made his way down again, down down down in a delicious line as he paused at the edge of her pajama pants, tracing the line on her lower stomach with lips and teeth and tongue that made her stomach clench and her toes curl.

She was wound up, tight like a spring, until his voice finally pierced through the fog. “Ellie?”

“Yeah?” She was breathing hard, unable to get air into her lungs, and it was so hot in the room that the touches and heat and Colt’s voice calling her name was making her brain melt.

“Okay?”

She couldn’t answer, could only repeat his name like a prayer and, thankfully, he seemed to understand, pulling her pajamas and her underwear off inch by inch, over shaking legs, to toss them on the floor.

He bent down again, tracing invisible designs with his teeth and his tongue, up her calves and up her inner thigh and up up up. Ellie was glad she had no idea what was coming because, when his tongue reached his destination, she swore that she saw sparks.

“Fuck!” The sound was punched from her, deep from her lungs, as he slid two fingers inside of her, moving in counterpoint to his lips and his tongue. She never swore but, in this moment, she would curse any deity on earth to get more of this feeling. She was too keyed up to be anxious, too turned on to be embarrassed; all she could do was clutch the bed sheets, twisting them so hard she would have worried about ripping them had her mind not been completely taken up by Colt and his mouth and his hands and the delicious things he was doing to her.

Time stood still and stretched on forever. All she could do was close her eyes and hold on tight as the pleasure overtook her, causing sparks behind her eyes so bright she had trouble focusing again. When her eyes cleared, she could see Colt, leaning over her with that insufferable smirk on his face. Perhaps just this once, he had earned it.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.” Her mouth would not stop moving of its own accord, her brain so far offline it couldn't keep up. Her legs were still shaking; she was trying to hook her foot around Colt to pull him to her, but her muscles would not cooperate. “Come here. Come here!”

He paused, looking at her, again flashing a sly grin at her. He pulled his pants and boxers off in one motion and slid on top of her, bending down for a deep kiss before rolling next to her, a long line of skin and flesh and muscle by her side.

“What are you doing? Come back!” She wanted him on top off her, his long warmth surrounding her, anchoring her into the bed.

Colt brushed a stray hair out of her eyes and smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re my driver, right?”

“Always,” Ellie breathed out, moving to kiss him again.

However, Colt ducked his head, putting a hand on each side of her hips and turning, spinning her so she slid on top of him.  She could feel every inch of him underneath her and sat up, a small gasp as she realized where their hips met. “Then drive,” he whispered, trailing feather light touches down her thighs.

Ellie bit her lip and slowly, slowly edged down, slow slow slow....stop. A gasp, a breath, breathe again. Guess I’m not a virgin anymore. It didn’t hurt, thank God, but it was weird. Someone else was inside her, as close as close could be, no distance between where she ended and he began.

She glanced to Colt but his eyes were closed, head bent back, mouth open with shuddering breaths. Slowly, carefully, Ellie moved her legs, a slow up-and-down and Colt moaned, loudly. She grinned; it was easy to see how this power could go to her head. She moved again, faster.

“Ellie....” Colt managed to groan out her name, eyes still closed, taking a few more shaky breaths before continuing. “Ellie, you ok?”

“Yeah.” She was moving a little faster, watching the pleasure flash across his face. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked up, pupils blown wide, amazement clear on his face. She wanted to bend over to kiss him but didn’t know if her legs would hold her, especially as she just was starting to figure out how to move. 

Eyes still on her, hot trails mapping her body, he started moving his hips, slight changes in angle. She wasn’t really sure what he was doing until he moved just right and her eyes widened. “Oh God!”

He grinned, still breathless. “Right there?” All she could do was nod, staring at him as he started to move in tandem with her, small movements that hit just right. He licked his lips and brought his thumb to his mouth, wetting it with a quick flick of his tongue. She watched, breathless, as he brought his thumb to her clit. He was touching her everywhere, inside, outside, and she was trying to move with him but it was becoming too much, everything just building inside her.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, as the movement, the pleasure, the intensity, the pressure, everything was just too intense. The room disappeared, everything disappeared except the feeling. She vaguely heard Colt moan, long and low, and her movements became difficult and jerky as she followed him down into the abyss and came again, unable to stop Colt’s name from falling from her lips.

She fell forward, unable to hold herself up anymore; thankfully, Colt was there to catch her as her arms weren’t working. Up close, Colt’s eyes were dark, deeper than she had ever seen, framed by his delicate eyelashes, and he was still biting his lower lip. She couldn’t help but press her lips to his, light, smiling when his lips chased hers as she moved her head. An arm slid down her back, gentle, and she realized they both were covered in sweat.

“You ok, El?”

She dropped her head to his shoulder, suddenly exhausted. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“I was hoping for a little better than good.” 

“Well, I think I have a cramp in my toes.”

Colt laughed and kissed her forehead, then nudging her with his chin. “Come on, let’s clean up.” He was watching her, eyes soft, actually relaxed for once. She never wanted it to end.

“But I’m so comfortable...”

“You will be more comfortable after a shower. Come on.” He slid out from under her, rolling off the bed and standing next to her, lacing their fingers together, kissing her hand. “Come on....”

“Wait, are we taking this shower together?” Ellie rolled over, eyes dropping down his from his face to his chest, lower. She wouldn’t mind if he never wore clothes again.

He caught her eye and winked at her, turning to head to the bathroom. Ellie’s mouth dropped open and she managed to follow him, legs still trembling.

~~~~~

It was bliss to fall back into bed and cuddle up, warm and clean. Ellie felt loose, like she imagined a good massage would feel like, and she didn’t know if or when she had ever felt this happy. Her head hit the pillow and she could feel Colt’s arm snake around her, a warm weight on her stomach. She linked their fingers together and smiled.

Outside, she could hear a few cars speed by, the normal assortment of late-night noise. Drifting above the din, a car slowly drove by the street, with some old rock song spilling into the night. 

All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade away again

Cocooned in Colt’s warmth and drifting off, Ellie barely heard the noise as she drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

[ayakashiramblings]

WTFur-Real Episode 2: Nachi’s Real Age

Right under our noses, in homes, cities, sofas and even laps. One in five of us owns a cat. Yet, only one person in the entire Capital knows what is called…. a Nekomata.

The passion for loving a Felis Silvestris Catus yokai has yet to take off. Dozens of experts just have to attribute such a blasphemous phenomenon to the fact that… it is hard to determine a true Nekomata’s age. That, and maybe the fact we don’t even know if it is an Ayakashi or not.

Is his age merely defined by the very lips that move to meow… but like a newborn kitten instead of a teenaged cat? Will we have to accept that his frolicking in the fields is to be expected of long-honed instincts or new urges surging through a young body? How are we to capture the timely essence of this puzzling creature? To do that, we…

You.

RA! Yura wants you to do this.

Damn it.

Gaku… are you still mad at me?

No, I am simply wondering how did you restore this in perfect condition with that wand of yours while I had to hunt down all those expensive components to make ANOTHER unnecessary one. Nope, no big deal. So, what are we doing?

We are turning into Ayakashi detectives, unravelling this feline enigma from the mystic mountain shrines to a Milk Hall swarmed by dozens of dust bunnies and even random streets Nachi just has to travel on.

Our journey begins here, at home, and the first piece of information I offer is a confession: 

I know Nachi cheats on his diet.

A lot of my research takes place out in the field so I can study how he moves in his natural environment. Studying an animal in the wild without disturbing his natural behaviour has never been easy, but over the past few years, ever since I turned five, I have learnt to gather intel… from sources that he encounters along his perilous journey for defying everything the veterinarian has told me to give him as we follow him.

With a bounce of a ballerina, senses so acute, he can pinpoint all the food coming his way from every vendor… dried sardine, vegetables, flowers…

Damn, this guy gets a parade every time he’s here.

Here, it seems, Nachi will now take a cat-nap right in front of our first stop: Milk Hall Raccord. We must hurry to meet someone who could possibly provide valuable insight into the shared history of the Nekomata and the people he has entranced.

Living for a long time (longevity) and the growing old (ageing) are two entities fused at the hip (original or replacement). Those very processes elude several fine specimens. Like how living a century is something all too familiar for this Domeki proprietor: Oji-san.

Here, he is busily practising his energy-saving methods with his Tengu-branded cigars. He always welcomes customers, and that is what we are to him at this very moment stepping through the empty halls of Raccord.

"Ah, bright eyes and... Gaku? Weird pair. Guess the 2nd date went well?"

Dementia is seriously creeping into his poor body just minutes into the very serious interview.

"Just so you know, this interview it better not be the omurice recipe because if Aoi ever finds out the secret ingredient, I know he will kill me in my sleep."

"We just want to ask you some questions about... what you have seen."

"Well, I saw this pretty lady..."

Ok, leave this one to me. It needs a blunt touch.

"No. We mean, when you were younger. Like, way much younger. And if you ever saw an unusual cat."

"Exactly, I was talking about a pretty lady. A pretty cat lady."

Who would have thought at the very first stage of our travels we would chance upon this rare fountain of knowledge? Fountain being that he is flooding all of our senses with some tales of all the ladies the used-to-be-young Oji once tried to court. We silently sip on the milk in serious contemplation… of how this lady has… and I quote from the notes I am taking… ‘long hair’, ‘manicured nails’, ‘pearly whites’, ‘an amazing… derriere’, ‘poor balance’, ‘was a vegan’...

"Wait, you said it was a cat lady?"

"Yup."

"She... sounds a bit too human."

"Oh, she was one. And she is dead by now I think."

"... Then why did you say she was a cat lady."

"Because she loved showing off her claws. Rawr, she was feisty."

It was then we knew… we should have gone with Ginnojo and Kuro first.

Then, after what seems like an eternity, the very pair marches in.

Here is the cool man who works at Kusanagi Books, the small book lenders next to this very restaurant and witnessing legendary events.

Why does the title card say Gin-Gin?

One word. Kuro.

"Hmmm.. A nekomata in the Edo period..."

"Truth be told, I haven't even encountered that many ayakashi species. It was only when the era ended that I saw more coming into the Capital."

Alas, it seems that Nachi has not crept into the hearts...

"Then again, I did meet a Bakeneko once."

"Wait, really? What about it?"

"It screamed a lot."

…

...

"The blood was more purple than red."

Make. Sure. Nachi. Never. Ever. Sees. This.

Noted. Cue transition?

Please.

Here we meet another loyal regular and possible informant: Kuro! He is a performer in the wildly successful Lorenzi Circus Troupe, this happy-go-lucky guy can put a smile on anyone’s face with one of his signature hugs.

D’aww.

Gack!

Hugs that should have embraced the fluffiness of a beloved Nekomata in his younger days.

“Hmmm… I have hugged a tiger!”

… I am changing the questions.

Go ahead, I give up.

“Ok, since everyone is gathered here… ahem, to put it lightly, how does it feel being more… senior or junior to the others?”

“It’s interesting learning from the others and seeing how the Capital has grown. Nobody even knows that more Ayakashi are coming to the city so we remain vigilant.”

“But also welcome them. You youngsters these days have all sorts of interesting things.”

“It’s great hearing all sorts of stories from Old Man and Gin-Gin! And they are living proof!”

Could that be Nachi’s feelings that have sustained his cute, fuzzball form? The indomitable thirst of justice, love and patriotism? Oh, such loyalty only possible in...

Er… MC?

Shh… this is getting good.

Yeah, so is Nachi getting good-to-go for home.

Gagh! After that cat!

MC, are you sure you can handle the camera and cue cards? It's pretty bulky.

Oh, I'm not holding the cue cards, Kuya is!

... He is just snoring... Wait, there is something floating above... Oh wow, he is actually... lifting them with his snores…. Also, what is he doing here?

Koga had some business with my father so he dropped him off here. Also, Koga’s distracting Nachi with petting him as Tama.

Indeed, observe how Nachi/Tama’s head lolls back, eyes closed in pure bliss as Sir Koga gets just that right spot. That’s it, Koga, scratch it. Scratch it while we scratch the surface… of Nachi’s 9 lives with two beautifully aged instruments.

“Hehe, oh my lady. Ne’er is there a dull moment when thou art beside me.”

The mysterious Yura used to dwell apart from society in an abandoned shrine. Having lived for over 1,000 years, his wisdom is an invaluable asset to the team and now, could be our greatest asset in this mystery.

“Maybe because she was dull enough to forget that we had known her past-self.”

A machinist by trade, this genius craftsman is known throughout the Capital by his pseudonym “Mr Kakyu.” Frankly, Gaku should have been called ‘Silver Tongue Tangled By MC’.

“By the way, how is the popcorn brother?”

“Sweet enough to sate my cravings. Many thanks, brother Gaku and milady MC!”

As Yura happily indulges in the caramel treat, he reveals,

“Well, there is one thing that I think is pertinent to this fine entertainment form...  pray, may I know what are those Nachi dons in his human form?”

A cheap abomination. We already did that with Kuya.

“Hmm… well, the only cat I saw with thee 1000 years ago wast just a kitten.  Weak at yond, and not coequal medicine couldst solveth half of its ailments.  Only thy loveth hath kept that him going.”

“I… didn’t really interact with Nachi in the past that much if he really was that cat 1000 years ago. All I remember was him tailing you even though he was bo-legged.”

“Hey, MC, why aren’t you narrating?”

“... Sorry, just had something in my eye.”

“What? Oh, don’t worry MC! I got you something!” came the boyish exclamation out of nowhere.

To MC’s shock, Nachi had suddenly thrust a whole bouquet of flowers, vegetables… and dried sardines and chicken wings into her face.  

“Hope you like it, MC! I got it from all these nice people!”

Of course, he is enshrouded by the warmest of sunlight and MC’s arms at that moment. So, we have come to the stunning conclusion… he is a baby to be protected. People say you choose a dog but the cat chooses you.

What people can’t say but I can say is that Nachi is the best friend you can have in any book of your life. From Dawn to Night.

Epilogue

Nachi tried to get both cameras working with his claws. This time, not even the Kagura bell wand could save them.

We then deduced he is probably really one of those naughty teenagers. 

A/N: OMG. I did it. I... dunno if it is worthy of being a series though, LOL. But this has been fun! I hope you guys like it and if you didn’t or found this weird (because I did at some points), feel free to shoot a message here.

Bold: Gaku’s voiceover

Italicised: MC’s voiceover

Normal: Characters conversing/MC or Gaku narrating

[tarotdeckshuffle]

Witch and familiar au what if one of the guys from ff xv was cursed as a furry animal and mc, the local witch, finds them and takes care of them and poof they wake up with a half whatever animal/human in their bed and the other is just all "yeah so this awkward but I gotta a good explanation." Im leaning heavily on it being Prompto with some form of dog ears.

I’m glad I can finally get to this request, @roshytsunami! I was originally going to do HCs about a lot of characters in this situation, but now I think I’ll do a short fic.

I think your idea about half fish Noctis (wait, that’s a merman, right?) is awesome! I also really want to see faun Gladio (goat legs and maybe horns?) and maybe a half cat Ignis…rotfl idk. OHH! What about a half falcon Ravus, so he can have wings?!?! Or a wolfy Nyx?! Ok, I’m getting ahead of myself. I don’t have time to write all of these right now >.

If any of these ideas sound good to you, please request them! I get to requests before originals and use them to gauge what ideas people think sound interesting.

Btw, Roshy is a mod for an upcoming Prompto centered zine that you can check out here!

Prompto just works too well with SnapChat…

Taglist: @idiotflowerex, @laststory1013, @sayaoqueen, @jophinabean, @mysme-already

If you like what you read, please consider supporting me on Patreon or buying me a Ko-fi!

Love Spell

Eye of newt,Tongue of dove,A blue flame’s soot,NOW SHOW MY LOVE!

Over your table top cauldron you chanted, throwing each ingredient in. The small container bubbled with a pinkish liquid until you chanted the last line, in which it overflowed into yellow steam over the sides. It was the color of a sunflower explosion.

Fitting, considering who you were looking for.

You must be truly desperate to be trying your own spell to find him, you thought to yourself. The room around you stayed quiet as the yellow steam dissipated.

Life wasn’t easy for your friendly neighborhood modern witch. The tarot cards were moody and only liked to read misfortune while your modern cauldron was the size of a two cup measuring cup. Who could afford a giant cast iron pot these days? You made up most of your own spells because the ingredients for the ones you found in old books or online all called for expensive items that couldn’t be found in your city. You were a witch that flew by the seat of your pants, not a broom.

Without warning, the smell of the potion exploded into the room. It was an unpleasant combination like cheap cologne and a seeding mint plant. The odor overwhelmed your small flat and your ran to the kitchen window, throwing it open to gasp at the fresh air.

As your lungs took their fill, you lingered in the warm windowsill. The sun glowed on your skin, heating your body after the cold of your flat. Your fingers played in the soft soil of your flower box, dancing between your herb plants.

Your eyes stared off into the sunny day, willing you to wander down the busy streets below in search of him. You dreamed of him as your gaze settled on your neighbors yellow and orange marigolds. They reminded you of his hair and cheerful smile.

The man you loved had been gone for three days now. He had gone out to get you coffee and never returned. You missed your love and were worried sick about him.

Sure, you had only been dating for a few weeks now, but you knew you loved him the moment you met him. It was the type of situation where the word just fit. He was your sunshine: the light of your life and the warmth to your days. But you had been too scared to tell him that. Now, you were worried you’d never get the chance to.

It had been three sleepless nights, thousands of missed calls, and hundreds of hours out looking for him. But he was still gone without a trace.

You were woken from your daydream by a sound at the door: scratching. Oh by the six, had you summoned something with your made up ramblings?

You spun from the window, grabbing the first item that could be used as a weapon, which happened to be a large wooden spoon. You held your new sword before you, ready for whatever was going to tear your door down. Your breathing came in gasps and your hands shook as you listened to the soft scratching.

Every sound made you flinch. You felt certain that the front door would come flying towards you at any moment. Your heart beat thrummed in your ears.

Silence.

“HERE IT COMES here IT comes here it COMES here itcomeshereitcomes” the words tumbled through your mind faster than you could comprehend them.

But nothing happened.

The door stayed perfectly still. When a soft whimpering was heard from the other side.

It sounded like a puppy.

You willed your frozen feet to move, to help you find out what was outside that door. Your initial instinct was to believe it a daemon’s trick, something to lure you outside, but curiosity got the best of you.

One hand on the doorknob, the other holding your spoon up to strike, you whispered, “Please don’t kill me,” before you threw the front door open.

Staring ahead, you half expected to see some giant, red and black glowing beast, ready to tear you apart. Instead, there was nothing.

You looked down towards movement on the floor to see a golden colored puppy sitting at your feet.

The two of you stared at each other in confusion, before it barked at you with its shrill but adorable voice.

Your head snapped to the upheld spoon. “Sorry!” You apologized while lowering it. The puppy rose to all four feet, trying to measure up to you.

You picked up the small baby, holding it before you to examine it. “So…boy,” you confirmed. “Tell me, are you some great daemon in disguise that I summoned to bring about my own bloodied doom?” You looked the bundle of fluff in the eyes. He just whimpered and waged his tail at you.

“AWWWW! You’re too cute to be here to hurt me! Aren’t you little guy!” At the will of this squirming puppy, you became a baby talking, giddy, melty mess. If it was going to kill you, at least you’d die happy from seeing something so adorable. You carried the little pup inside, cradled in your arms.

The rest of your day was spent drenched in sunlight, warm away from your sorrow. You now had someone to care for.

You made some homemade food for your new friend and stitched up some makeshift toys. You would sprawl out on your living room rug and play with him. As the sun was setting, painting the bricks of your flat in orange, you realized he still didn’t have a name. You smiled, watching the puppy yawn, content to put the task off until tomorrow.

You cuddled into your bed, soft and safe from the world outside. Your new friend whimpered on the floor, until you relented, picking him up to cuddle into your blankets with you. He curled up in your arms and was soon snoring under your adoring gaze.

It felt like mere moments later when you awoke. Everything was so warm; from the morning sun streaming in, to your blankets, even the breath on your skin.

WAIT!

Breath on your skin?!

You looked down frantically. Were a soft puppy had once laid, now a blond haired handsome man lay, curled up against your chest.

Your cheeks burned red as you scuttled backwards. Your bed mate moaned in his sleep.

“PROMPTO!?!” You cried! Was he really here? Now? Was this a dream?

“Errmm, [Y/N]?” He blinked sleep filled eyes, trying to focus on you. “[Y/N]!!!!” He realized suddenly who you were, tackling you onto the other side of the bed.

He was so excited to see you! You had to close your eyes to the onslaught of kisses…very wet kisses.

“Prom! Where have you…what have you…” He pulled away from you, his sky blue eyes staring into yours. You couldn’t help but notice small, fluffy ears sticking out of his golden hair as his tongue lolled out his open mouth. “What happened?!”

“I missed you so much, [Y/N]! I swear I can explain everything!” He dove into a rambling story, a tail swishing in your sheets to his cadence.

Ears, tongue, a tail…had your puppy friend been Prompto?!

“Prom, Prompto, sunshine…PROM! Stop!” Finally you got him to quiet. “I don’t think it’s all worn off…” You picked up your phone to show him what he looked like in the camera. He stared obliviously happy at you as you took his picture.

You turned your phone around. It took him a moment to recognize his own reflection. When he did, he snatched the device from your hands.

“THAT’S ME?!” He cried as though it was your fault.

You just nodded, still in shock at the puppy boy in front of you. A blush bloomed again. You had slept with the puppy, you had rolled around on the floor with the puppy, you had seen the puppy’s…

He started to panic, still staring at your phone.

“You were that puppy!” The realization left your lips.

“YEAH! AND NOW I’M ME BUT I’M STILL PUPPY AND…” Prompto had at least triple your anxiety.

You took a moment to breath. Everything was crazy, but he was here now. That’s what mattered.

“Prom, what happened?” You hoped your forcibly calm voice would help him.

“There was this person and I bumped into them and they knew my name and then I saw them here and…”

He was going to give himself a panic attack at this rate! So, you stopped him in the best way you knew how.

You pressed your lips to his. You had missed these soft lips. You felt the tension in your body release as you tasted his wet lips, letting your souls click into place.

Gently, slowly, you pulled away. “What was that for?” Your sunshine asked breathlessly.

“True love’s kiss and all that jazz,” you replied softly, half hoping it had worked.

“Oh…better try again, then.” And in an instant, your lips were reunited.

You could feel the heat in your cheeks rise. You had never purposefully been in a bed with Prompto,  much less like this before!

As heat was starting to build, he suddenly pulled away, his eyes wide. He jumped out of the bed and made for the bathroom.

“Prom? Honey, what’s wrong?” You called, concerned by his sudden departure.

“Gotta go!” He called, slamming the door.

You smiled at the strange scene.

“IT’S REALLY HARD TO GO WHEN YOU KEEP TRYING TO RAISE YOUR LEG!” He yelled from the other side of the door. Yeah, your Prompto was back.

The rest of the morning was filled with a slow breakfast and as much time in each other’s arms as you could have. Prompto kept trying to lick you instead of kiss you and he accidently did whine a few times.

Eventually, you pieced together his story. It sounded like a rival witch had been trying to cast this spell on you, when Prompto walked out of your apartment and right into it! You laughed with him but vowed to get revenge on whoever did this.

With a little bit of research and luck, you discovered that Prompto’s transformation would go away with time and “warm love”. He would need to constantly be around someone he loved, to take care of them and be cared for, until all the symptoms went away, or else he would transform back into a puppy!

“You poor thing! The shock of the transformation must have scared you so bad that you ran away!” You pet his head, trying to comfort him through understanding.

Prompto laughed nervously.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“I guess…this means the cat’s out of the bag…heh or the dog.” He did a weak finger guns to you.

“What?”

“The ‘L’ word stuff! LOVE! Now you know…” He looked down sadly. “And I never got to surprise you or make it super romantic or something…”

You smiled, pulling him in close for a tight hug. “Yeah, but I don’t need that, because I have you.” You pulled away to hold is face in your hands. “Prompto, I love you and I never want to lose you again.”

His eyes sparked. “I love you, too, [Y/N]. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

You held each other tight, wrapped in the strongest magic the world had ever known: Love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I was a pretty cute puppy, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, you still are!”“I am not!” “You can still be very dog-like at times.”

“Well, you don’t need a leash to keep me around.” ;)

“What if I want one?”

“What?”

“What?”

[aworldoffandoms]

For the drabble prompt I'm asking for #28...or #12. Or both together cause that sounds like a fun Tuesday. XD Stay wonderful!

Authors Note: This is adrabble from the drabble prompt challenge. It’s number #12 and #28. It’s myfirst one so please let me know what you think of it! (also be gentle haha)Thank you for the ask @harlequinash! This is quite long as my words got away with me but Iswear I’ll be brief next time lol. Hope you enjoy!

This drabble is separate from my series ‘Runaway’ but I’musing the same MC haha

[Edit: The outline and placing of stuff on this post are messed up on the mobile version yet seem fine on the desktop version. Just warning you :) ]

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC[Ariel]

Word Count: 1, 982 (give or take)

Warnings: Swearing, drunkenness

Lava 

The Queen of Cordonia could hold her liquor. She was a master at it.Being an American and New Yorker, respectively, she had her fair share of night’s out. A few times after long week’s ofcorrespondence with delegates, ambassadors and many insufferable nobles she lether hair down and dabbled in a few drinks to calm herself or have fun.

She didn’t know how Liam did it. He was the epitome of a king and thequeen herself? Well…let’s just say she was still learning.

It’s only been 6 months since the wedding and she’d been thrust rightinto the work of a monarch and she had been run off her feet since.

She was exhausted.

So, it was after a long day of meetings, a bill passing through theRoyal Council and a very long, detailed meeting with their Director of RoyalCommunications, that saw her sitting in the lower wing of the palace in the secluded bar just outside the copious palace grounds.

She was sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in her hand, sipping onit slowly, thinking about her schedule tomorrow which consisted of brunch withthe Queen Mother and a few meetings she had to attend with Liam. A burst of exhaustionwent through her.

I am so ready for sleep…

“Heyoooo!”

A booming voice rang through the quiet space of the downstairs bar andAriel winced at the volume, her body jumping in shock. Her mouth pursed into ascowl, having enjoyed a few moments of silence before the hurricane known asMaxwell Percival Beaumont flew in.

However, as soon as she met the excited, blue eyes of her self-adoptedfun-loving brother, her earlier annoyance fizzled out to be replaced by abright smile. Maxwell’s energy seeping into her tired bones.

“Hey, Maxwell. What are you doing down here?”

Maxwell shoots Ariel a grin, nodding to the bottle of Russian vodka onthe shelf next to the bottle of Jägermeister. On further thought, Maxwellpointed to the Jägermeister as well. The bartender nodded, handing over bothbottles before putting down a shot glass.

Ariel stared at her friend, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Maxwell…whatthe hell are you doing?”

“Well, Your Majesty…I believe that for a woman who has been working ashard as you have deserves a load off so…” Maxwell pauses, reaching over the barand grabbing more shot glasses. “I think it is time for some alcohol!”

Ariel resisted the urge to groan. She could hold her liquor, yes. But Russianvodka, Jägermeister and the already two glasses of whiskey already buzzing throughher veins would not be a good combination in the long wrong run. Mixing drinksis always a bad idea.

Ariel gives him a long-suffering look. “Maxwell…that’s very thoughtful.But I don’t think that’s a good idea. I have brunch with Regina tomorrow and Ican’t afford––”

Maxwell interrupts her with a wave of his hand. “Bruch, smunch. Youdeserve this.”

“But––”

“No buts, Ariel. You need to relax a little. All that queenly stuff andpaperwork isn’t good for one’s social life.”

Ariel stares indignantly at Maxwell. “I have a great social life,Beaumont!”

Maxwell scoffs, a laugh bubbling up from his throat. “Yeah, because youhave to. You’re the Queen of Cordonia but that doesn’t mean you socialise withthe right people.”

Ariel raises an eyebrow. “Are you implying that you’re the right people for me to be hanging with?”

Maxwell’s grin grows wide. “Naturally.”

“Oh, Maxwell…” Ariel laughed, shaking her head at the youngest Beaumontbrother. He was so incorrigible. Despite how tired she felt, Ariel couldn’thelp the smile lifting her lifts. Maxwell was just that kind of person whoalways lit up a room with his energy.

Ariel finished off the last of her whiskey, setting down the glass witha soft tap against the bar. She groans as she stands up, her feet throbbingfrom being on them all day.

“Uh, uh. Where are you going?”

Ariel stares at him for a minute. “I am going to bed, Maxwell. I havestuff to do tomorrow.”

Maxwell rolls his eyes but continues to pour two shots of vodka forthem both. “Come on, Ariel. You know you want to…”

Ariel sighs, running her hands through her hair. “I have a feeling youaren’t going to stop until I placate you and say yes.”

Maxwell leans back, grasping the two shot glasses and handing one overto her. 

“You’re quite right about that.”

Ariel rolls her eyes, the hint of another smile on her lips as theyclink glasses and they both toss back the shot, the strong Russian alcoholburning down her throat as it went. 

***

“Maxwell…you a succhh a bad in-plueence on me…”

“Whaaat can I say, Ariel? I am one half of the Brothers Beaumont. Ihaaavve to be at least good at something, right?”

Ariel giggles, the sound loud in the room they occupied. They had movedfrom the bottom level bar to the drawing room next to it. Maxwell and Arielwere seated on the ground, their backs leaning up against the sofa.

“You know what, Maxwell?”

“What?”

Ariel lolls her head to the side, her mind a haze with the amount of alcoholshe had consumed.

“I think I could beat you at a game of lava.”

Maxwell looks at her quizzically despite his inebriated state. “Lavv-a?What kind of game is that?”

Ariel’s lips pull up in a large grin, her excitement growing. This is onegame that Maxwell wouldn’t know about.

Ariel pours herself another shot of vodka and downs it, slamming the glass on the coffee table before standing, wobbling on her feet slightly.

“Okay…now, I will teach you this custom. It was basically the childhood gameof all American child-renn…”

Seeing Ariel’s smile, Maxwell follows her, jumping up on his feet,himself almost falling over.  “Okay! Showme this custom of yours, Little Blossom!”

Ariel laughs, clapping her hands in childlike excitement. “Okay. Soooo…youhave to pretennd that..the ground is hot like lava and that everyything else isssaaafe. So…let’sss say I call out ‘lava’…then we’d have to find the n-nearestpiece of furniture and stand on it. The first one to fall down or trip loses.”

“Buuut…” Ariel says, lifting up a finger. “The last one to land on a piece of furniture has to take a drink.”

Maxwell smiles, nodding his head in drunken excitement. “Ooooh…let’s dothisss. P-prepare to lose, little blossom-m.”

Ariel and Maxwell begin on opposite sides of the reading room. Both ofthem in the middle, eyeing prospective places to keep off the floor. With themany shots of alcohol running through her system Ariel gives a devious grin toMaxwell and shouts at the top of her lungs,

“LAVA!”

With that yell, Ariel shoots away and jumps on to the nearest thing shecan find which was a cream coloured reading chair beside the fireplace. Maxwellhad found a brown oak coffee table to settle on. Both Ariel and Maxwell laughas they take turns in jumping on the furniture, shooting back vodka and yelling‘Lava’ a few times their voices almost raw.

“Lava! Oh, Ariel—watch out!”

In her excitement to get to safety on top of the sofa, Ariel missed herfooting and with the momentum of her upper body she tumbles over the back of thesofa and lands with a loud thud.

“Ow! That f-fucking hurt!”

“Craaap! Are you alright?”

“What in the world is going on in here?”

Ariel freezes, her body going rigid at the voice. She recognised it. Herface scrunched up in a grimace. It wasn’t many times that he saw her drunk butnow was one of those times.

Ariel thought it best to stay behind the sofa. It was the safest place forher to be right now.

Ariel peeked underneath it, seeing Maxwell standing atop the piano. Shestifled a giggle that wanted to bubble up from her throat but she slapped ahand on her mouth to stop it.

“Maxwell? What are you doing on the piano?”

Ariel sees as Maxwell stumbles for words, himself swaying on the pianotrying to appear sober but failing miserably.

“Um –– I…I don’t…you see…it was Ariel’s idea…”

Thanks a lot, Maxwell… 

“Ariel? Is she here? Where is she?”

Ariel closes her eyes as her heart beats widely against her chest.

Shit. Shit. Shiiit.

“She’s hiding behind the sofa.”

Ariel hears a sigh and feet hitting the floor before a shadow passesover her form and she inclines her head upwards and locks eyes with herhusband. His face was a neutral mask of stoicism but his eyes told a differentstory.

He was mad…but even in her drunken state she could see remnants ofamusement in them too.

“What are you doing down there, my love?”

Ariel stares at Liam for a small while and then she grins. “Oh, I’m justplaying Lava with Maxwell. You know…a game…with a few shots of vodka here andthere.”

Liam’s shoulders shake with a low chuckle and he shakes his head. “Ariel…whatam I going to do with you?”

Ariel smiles from her position on the floor. “Uh…maybe take me to bed? Ithink I had a little too much-h to driiink.”

Liam smiles, his blues sparkling with affection before he bends down andscoops his wife into his arms. “Come on, my queen. Let’s get you to bed. Youhave a long day tomorrow.

Ariel smiles, giving Liam a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “That sounds nice.I love youuuu…”

Ariel’s eyes were already slipping shut. She feels the low rumble ofLiam’s laugher against her ear. “I love you too, Ariel.”

***

Ariel awakens, her eyes throbbing and her head pounding. She felt likeshe’d been thumped in the head a few times.

“Ugh!” Ariel groans. “My head…”

Ariel tries to open her eyes but the light against her lids is painfuland she snaps them shut with a hiss.

“Sore head, Ariel?”

Ariel lies back down against her bed and groans. “More like a sorefreaking everything.”

Liam chuckles, leaning down to kiss Ariel’s forehead gently. “I’m sorryto hear that, my love. But unfortunately, duty calls…you have a meeting in an hour withRegina.”

Ariel’s eyes snap open, all thoughts of her pounding headache gone. Inher rush to get out of the bed, her feet tangled up and she falls to thefloor, her arms flailing about.

She lands on the floor with a loud thump. “Geez! Ow.”

Liam’s warm laughter fills their bed chambers and wraps around Arielmaking her shiver. “That’s the second time you’ve done that.”

Ariel pops up from the floor, giving her husband a questioning look. “Secondtime? When was the first time?”

“When you were in the bottom parlor and hiding behind the sofa?”

Ariel brings a hand to her forehead and scratches it in confusion. Theevents of last night all but a blur.

“How drunk was I?”

Liam grins, his eyes crinkling atthe edges with mirth. “Drunk enough to proposition me, strip down to your underwear before passing out.”

Ariel gasps, her head beginning to throb louder. “Oh. Sorry…” 

Liam chuckles, running a fingerdown her cheek. “No qualms about that, my sweet. Maybe another time.”

Ariel gives him a sly smirk. “I’llbe holding you to that.”

Liam chuckles, giving her a quickkiss before heading to the doors that lead out of their suite.

“I look forward to it. Oh, andAriel?”

Ariel glances back at her husband. “Yeah?”

“Maybe next time we can play ourown game.”

Ariel gulps. “I––I look forward tothat.”

Liam gives her a wink before slinkingout the door and leaves Ariel to take care of her throbbing headache and the fact that she had to appear sober in front of Regina when in fact she had a killer hangover.

This was going to be a long day,indeed.

[atopearth]

Higurashi When They Cry Part 2 - Ch 2 Watanagashi

I regret not typing down the important thoughts for the first arc, I’m going to forget everything T_T Anyway, hmmm Mion’s really got a bunch of uncles. Like seriously, does her extended family own the whole town’s businesses, do they basically run the town altogether? It did seem like her family had a lot of power in the previous arc so maybe.. So it’s true that she has a younger twin sister… But the one dressed in those cute clothes at the family restaurant was definitely Mion rightttt?! She’s so cuteee! She should admit it was her lolol but then Keiichi would just keep teasing her lmao. Now that we know she has a twin sister though, could she be the one that died instead? Or is she a potential killer?🤔

Hahahaha my bad. I got tricked along with the MC. It was actually Shion all along! She was really good at making the MC misunderstand and continuing to let him misunderstand loll. I guess she’s scary in that way lmao. But yeah, when the MC was protected by Shion and the Hinamizawa people, it was pretty scary… Like, these guys seem capable of anything, even the elementary school kids! Like, it just sounds crazy… I wonder if the same people will die in this game too… On another note though, I love all the fun they have as usual. I mean, Keiichi in a maid outfit?! Hahahah! And when he bribed his younger classmates so he could win lmao since the kids like Satoko and Rika lololol. And his successful sales pitch for the skimpy takoyaki seller! They’re all geniuses in their own way lmao. Since although Keiichi outshined the others here, when the others helped protect Shion from perverts at her workplace, they were so cool lmao, especially Rena hahaha! She always looks so gentle but is unexpectedly violent lmao.

But omg, the idea of the Watanagashi is so frightening…. To dissect people and eat their insides and to torture them all that time… Whether they had demon’s blood or not, it doesn’t change the fact that there were people doing that…. I guess the scariest thing about Higurashi isn’t the idea really of anything looking scary but the atmosphere, tension, build up and execution of it. The random times Mion and Rena would show their craziness is always frightening. So I guess rather than being scared, you get chills down your spine.

Pretty gruesome way for Takano to die being burnt to death and half naked for some reason. Tomitake clawing out his throat and blood vessels always makes me flinch. I really like Tomitake though :( Rika-chan is so cool and dependable that you start to forget that she’s a kid. MC is in a total state of shock and confusion. Shion is the same though I guess especially with the mayor that she confided in disappearing. I guess their wrongdoing in this arc is much more substantial than the previous though considering they entered somewhere prohibited and learnt about the bloody history of the village. Mion is always the most suspicious but… I still think she’s the kind one that always wants to help Keiichi. But I guess I have my doubts every now and then too hahaha. I’ll have to go through all the question arcs before I really put a firm input of my thoughts on this whole thing I guess.

But dangg, when he exposed on the phone that Shion(?) couldn’t be the one calling him the past few days and she started laughing hysterically and then hanging up…I got so creeped out… I mean, it’s a sound novel but just reading the words with the background music made it even scarier to an extent…

It was really quite devastating to hear Mion admitting to killing Rika and Satoko. They were her friends. They’ve been together for so long… It was a very heavy burden for Mion to bear though, as the leader of her family and essentially the leader of the village itself. To protect against the discrimination the village once bore as monsters… It was quite saddening to hear though, the human eating stories getting out of hand and the village being detested and completely hated. Would it be called karma for the discrimination they once displayed to others? But that wouldn’t have been their faults, it would have been their ancestors. Regardless though, Mion having taken on the spirit of her grandfather, grandmother and her parents, she had to protect the village from that dark past, because if it were to spread again, who knows how the village will be treated again? But it was really cool that Mion’s grandmother was the one who united the whole village into that mindset of protecting one another against outsiders that don’t treat them well. I’m sure that’s what they needed. But I wonder if killing people every year at the festival was really required to protect the secrets of the village.

It was pretty heartbreaking to hear that the lock to the ritual storehouse they broke into was changed because of Rika and the mayor thinking the bars and stuff were too heavy and that it should be changed because they believed no one in Hinamizawa was bad enough to think of sneaking in. It must have hurt to be Keiichi to hear that. Especially since the mayor and Rika said they’d take responsibility for anything that happens and they really ended up having to with their lives.

I’m kinda surprised and not surprised at the same time that Mion couldn’t kill Keiichi even though he probably would have been the easiest kill. I guess besides the love factor, Keiichi really brought this fun and weightless atmosphere into their group. Everyone in the group carried their own burdens, whether it be Mion as the head, Rena with her obsession with Oyashiro (I think), Rika as the miko and orphan head and Satoko being the cursed child with everyone next to her having died. Keiichi was like a pure breath of fresh air, his existence brought a sense of calmness to them, so everyone loves him, because with him, they could forget about everything. Which is why none of them really wanted him to know about the bad things in the village and it’s also the reason why Mion could probably kill the others but not him. Everyone knew their responsibilities and in a sense have accepted their fates as a part of the village.

You know, even though Mion’s actions can only be blamed on herself and the people in her family who made her become like this, when she told Keiichi that everything started going wrong ever since that time he decided to not give that doll to her. I guess in the end, maybe if he recognised her as a girl, maybe if he recognised her love for him and maybe if he could reciprocate, everything might not have gotten out of hand because she might have stayed more sane. Maybe then she wouldn’t have been able to kill Rika and Satoko… But dangg guess Keiichi will always die hahaha, although it felt like he killed himself through his instability of mind rather than anyone coming to kill him.

If Mion had died before she could have stabbed him that night, then maybe it was the crazy Shion? Shion sounds crazy enough lol. But I do agree with the characters in their little epilogue thing where they discuss the whole story together that considering the crimes they had committed in the past, it would be much too simple and weirdly easy to have been able to pin everything on Mion and her admitting it. Now we go back to… Who is the true mastermind!? Maybe Rena is like the last boss hahaha~

[c-valentino]

Have a Kevin of the Day - Day Four

– The Day Kevin brought Caesar along Day 4

Kevin: I’ll be there in 10! Neil: okay

Neil tied his running shoes and grabbed his keys. “Andrew, I’m going for a run!” From his boyfriend came only a short, noncommittal reply. He had been busy with a new video game recently. This morning however, they both had read a post about Kevin that had gone viral on social media. ‘Kevin Day found his rebound!’ — Awfully soon after he had just broken up with Thea two weeks ago. Last night someone from his team had tweeted that single line and people went crazy about it. Kevin himself had not commented on it yet and Neil was more than a little curious. He went outside to wait for his friend.

Kevin, as usual, showed up on time for their run. What caught Neil’s eye though was the new furry companion at his side. Black and white with blue eyes, a husky stayed close on Kevin’s heels.

“Hey,” Kevin greeted cheerfully, no post-breakup depression detectable.

“Hey,” echoed Neil. The dog sat down right beside Kevin and looked up at them. Young, Neil thought, still almost a puppy. “You got yourself a dog?” He bent down and reached his hand out for the husky to sniff but found a still too big looking paw on top of his hand instead. He grinned and shook it a little.

“I did,” Kevin replied, smiling down on his new companion who was on his best behavior, making friends with Neil already. “You know, thought it might be good.”

“What’s his name?”  

“I don’t know yet,” Kevin said and scratched the back of his head. “He’s a rescue but they didn’t know his name, so they called him Kujo.” It was obvious that Kevin didn’t agree with that name for his dog. Neil thought his friend was already going over all those historical figures in his head. “They said he caused trouble with the previous owners, but you know… people get dogs for Christmas or something and then have no clue how to deal with them. He needs a crazy amount of exercise, it’s great!” The puppy was jumping up Kevin’s leg now, impatient to move on, tongue lolling to one side, right paw stretched up in the air. Kevin reached his hand down for a human to dog fist bump.

“I see.” Neil tried to imagine a little guy like Kujo here causing enough trouble or harm to justify someone getting rid of him. He couldn’t. But then he was a sucker for rescues himself and would never understand why people would treat their pets badly.

“Let’s go,” Kevin said and they made their way down the street. The husky was on a bright neon green leash but never left Kevin’s side, staying right in the middle of the two men, keeping pace with them.

“So… any ideas for names yet?” Neil had long ago gotten used to running with Kevin. The taller man’s long legs were eating up the distance effortlessly, but Neil’s pride wouldn’t take a blow by making him slow down to compensate for their difference in height. He just ran a little faster and his stamina allowed him to keep the conversation between them going.

“Some,” Kevin nodded. “Alexander, maybe, or Hannibal.”

“Wait, what? Like Hannibal the cannibal?” Neil was frowning down at the dog and Kevin looked at his friend in disbelieve. And people always accused him of having no general knowledge.

“No, like Hannibal the Carthaginian general who marched an army following war elephants from Iberia over the Pyrenees and the Alps into Italy during the Second Punic War.”

“Ah, that one,” Neil nodded, as if he had known all along. “Nerd,” he then muttered under his breath and Kevin rolled his eyes. “People would still think of Anthony Hopkins,” Neil insisted and Kevin thought he might have a point there.

“Napoleon?”

“He doesn’t look French or short.” Neil eyed the dog again.

“Napoleon’s height was average,” Kevin corrected him.

“Still, doesn’t look French to me,” Neil nitpicked and Kevin sighed.

“What about Caesar, then?” They rounded a corner and crossed the street to enter the park, picking up the pace a little now that there were no cars or other obstacles in their way anymore.

“I like that one actually.”

“Oh, I have the approval of the great Neil Josten whose cats are named Fluffkins and Sir Fat Cat Mc… whatever it’s name is.”

“King Fluffkins and Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.” Kevin still thought those names more than a little ridiculous.

“Yeah… that.”

“Jealous?” Neil chuckled a little, then shook his head. “So, Caesar then? —By the way, when Noah posted that about your rebound…”

“Yeah, he meant the dog. I brought him along yesterday, let him meet the team. They love him already.” Kevin grinned down at Caesar who seemed happy to run with them, bright eyed, vigilant but always attentive to his new master. “Why?”

“Had me worried there for a second. You just broke up with Thea after all.”

“Isn’t that the point of a rebound, though?” Kevin seemed entirely unconcerned, which gave Neil the feeling the perfect Exy couple had not been as perfect as they had wanted them to believe.  

“Maybe? I wouldn’t know. Seems like you found your perfect match though. Who’s taking care of him when you are playing away matches?”

“Private dog sitter. Great guy, brother of one of my teammates. He’s studying identifiable behavior patterns in aggressive dogs. It’s the same guy who told me about Caesar here.” Kevin tested his dog’s new name and was pleased. They ran up the hill and as usual sprinted the last stretch towards the lake, where they slowed down and took a break at the patio. Usually this was their place if there were matters to discuss that took a little too much attention to talk them over during a run. They had come here many times, talking about problems with their teams, the unwanted attention of the media, rarely about private matters or their pasts.

“He doesn’t tire, does he?” Neil observed amazed. Caesar sat down next to him, panting a little to cool down, but didn’t seem tired yet. His attention was on the swans and ducks on the lake. Neil thought about having a dog who could run with him everyday. He met Kevin only twice a week and Andrew usually declined his invitations to come along.

“Eventually. I’ve been working on his stamina. He likes to run but he’s also pretty clever when it comes to tricks. He learnt giving fist bumps on our first evening together. We are working on ‘speak’ right now.” Caesar turned his head towards Kevin when he heard him say ‘speak’, knowing the command even though he hadn’t figured out what it meant yet, it still got his attention. Clever little guy, Neil thought. Yeah, a perfect match for Kevin. His friend always stroke him as a dog person, valuing unconditional loyalty, and a breed like this one would surely be able to keep up with Kevin’s endless energy.

“If the cats like him you can bring him over when you are busy,” he offered.

“If the cats like him? Don’t you mean Andrew?” Kevin laughed and petted his new companion’s head affectionately.

“Andrew? He’ll love him. He might not tell you that though.” They thought about the goalkeeper. Andrew liked animals in general, even though he didn’t talk about it. They liked him too, which lead to those unexpected cute little moments Andrew would straight out deny had ever happened afterwards.  

“Yeah, sounds like him.” Caesar was rubbing his head against Kevin’s leg and the striker bent down and humored him by petting him some more, rubbing his ears. “Caesar,” he called, starting to familiarize his dog with his new name. He had never called him Kujo, knowing he wouldn’t keep the name. Caesar looked up at him, waiting for a command. “Caesar, speak.” Authority came naturally to Kevin and the dog would easily accept his leadership. Caesar fidgeted a little, unsure what Kevin wanted of him. “Speak,” Kevin repeated and when the tension got too high Caesar let out a little whine. “Close enough,” Kevin chuckled and petted his companion some more.

“I’ve never seen you so kind while teaching,” Neil teased and Kevin shrugged.

“He’s young,” he made excuses. “He wants to learn and I need to figure out how to teach him right.”

“So there is hope for your future history students after all,” Neil grinned. “They might not hate Mr. Day and his notorious teaching methods.”

“Kids love me,” Kevin frowned.

“Kids love Kevin Day the unbeaten Exy striker. People get fooled by your media acts. You are still an asshole on the court.”

“And look how that turned out for you, Josten.” Now it was Neil’s turn to shrug.

“Yeah, I’m not complaining. I can deal with it. I’m not a kid though.” He crouched down and the husky turned towards him, rightfully expecting more attention and affection. When he got both from the young backliner he nearly pushed him over while jumping up with his front paws onto Neil’s knees and licking his face. Neil laughed and turned his head away.

“Caesar,” Kevin rebuked his dog. “Down.”

“It’s fine,” Neil chuckled while Caesar let himself be pushed back to the ground into a sitting position.

“No, it’s not. He’s going to get bigger.” Kevin gave a short, low whistle. “Down.” And Caesar lay down at his feet. “Good boy.”

Later that night Neil sat on the couch next to Andrew and watched his boyfriend’s digital avatar run through an amazing looking fantasy world. While Andrew entered another dungeon Neil checked his phone. Matt had forwarded him some pictures from Kevin’s Intagram account. ‘True Love’ The striker had commented below, a nasty hit in Thea’s direction. He had uploaded a series of pictures of him playing with Caesar, and the combination of Kevin Day showing affection in the cutest of ways, cuddling a young husky with strikingly beautiful blue eyes in front of the camera made the fans go crazy and the comment section explode. Neil smirked and handed the phone to Andrew who thumbed through the pictures. The goalkeeper scoffed and wrote a comment below the last one where Kevin was playfully biting Caesar while they were both on the young man’s bed. Andrew tossed the phone back into Neil’s lap and resumed his game.

‘Always knew you were gay’ The auburn-haired young man frowned down at his phone. “You know that’s my account.” A smirk tore at the corners of Andrew’s mouth. Already the fans were commenting on his —well Andrew’s post. Even Matt sent him another text.

Matt: omg Neil!

Followed by an emoji that was crying tears of laughter.

“You know, half the time it isn’t even my fault people call me savage.” It was true. Half of the posts on his social media accounts that got the most attention were written by Andrew. The goalkeeper’s own accounts were almost dead because he almost never bothered to post something there.

“And half of it is,” was Andrew’s only reply.

<<<Day 3                                                                                   Day 5>>>